Colonel  Todhunter 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER 
OF  MISSOURI 


RIPLEY  D.  SAUNDERS 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 

W.  B.  KING 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


PRESS  OF 

BRAUNWORTH  &  CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND  PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN,  N.  Y. 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER 
OF  MISSOURI 


TO 

MARY 
MY  DEAR  WIFE 

THIS  BOOK 
IS  LOVINGLY  DEDICATED 


222953S 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS  .       .       .       .       i 

II  THE  GREEN-EYED  MONSTER         ....      23 

III  STRICKLAND  OF  NINEVEH 37 

IV  LOTTIE-MAY  WEAVES  A  WEB        .       .       .        .53 
V  IN  THE  NINEVEH  BLADE  SANCTUM       .       .       .64 

VI  THE  STRICKLAND-TUCKER  FEUD  ....  79 

VII  SIM  BIRDSONG'S  RESOLVE 94 

VIII  A  FINANCIAL  STRINGENCY 108 

IX  THE  COLONEL  CUTS  A  WIDE  SWATH    .       .       .117 

X  A  YOUNG  LOCHINVAR 145 

XI  A  TERRIFYING  PRICE 161 

XII  A  SENTIMENTAL  CRISIS 171 

XIII  IN  RURAL  MISSOURI 185 

XIV  THE  SHAME  OF  LOTTIE-MAY         ....  202 
XV  THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  ROAD         ....  216 

XVI  THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  CASE 229 

XVII  A  STRANGE  CRY  FROM  BLACK  LIPS      .        .       .  243 

XVIII   THROUGH  DARKNESS  INTO  DAWN  .       .       .       .  256 

XIX  MISSOURI  vs.  TOM  STRICKLAND    ....  265 

XX  CHICKASAW  JESSE  BREAM 281 

XXI  THE  COLONEL  CONFRONTS  DEFEAT      .        .       .  300 

XXII   MISSOURI  SPEAKS  AT  THE  POLLS  ....  309 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER 
OF  MISSOURI 

CHAPTER  I 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  CAMPAIGNS  AMONG  THE  CON- 
FEDERATE DAUGHTERS 

COLONEL  Thurston  T.  Todhunter  was  unde- 
niably the  distinct  embodiment  of  that  pictur-- 
esque  native  American  type,  the  Kentuckian  born  and 
Missourian  bred,  as  he  entered  old  Judge  Boiling's 
law  office  in  Nineveh  and  saluted  its  white-haired  oc- 
cupant with  a  cordially  impressive  wave  of  the  hand 
in  friendly  greeting. 

It  was  the  morning  of  the  day  preceding  the  re- 
turn from  St.  Louis  of  the  Honorable  William  J. 
Strickland,  law  partner  of  Judge  Boiling  and  now 
an  avowed  candidate  for  the  Democratic  primary 
nomination  for  governor  of  Missouri,  and  Colonel 
Todhunter's  buoyantly  aggressive  bearing  was  due 
to  his  delight  that  his  lifelong  friend  had  at  last 


yielded  to  popular  pressure  and  made  open  an- 
nouncement of  his  candidacy.  The  scent  of  political 
battle  in  the  Strickland  cause  was  hot  in  the  Colonel's 
nostrils  and  he  sniffed  its  savor  with  militant  joy. 

Tall  and  erect,  Colonel  Todhunter  carried  his 
spare  but  stalwart  frame  with  an  ease  that  somewhat 
belied  the  grizzled  gray  of  his  hair  and  the  white  of 
his  soldierly  mustache  and  old-fashioned  "imperial." 
One  could  not  easily  have  failed  to  recognize  him 
for  just  what  he  was — a  lineal  descendant  of  that 
colonial  Virginian  stock  whose  grandsons  followed 
the  pioneer  trail  that  led  from  the  Old  Dominion, 
first  to  North  Carolina,  then  to  Kentucky  and 
Tennessee,  and  thence  to  Missouri ;  a  stock  that  has 
remained  distinctively  American  since  the  time  of  its 
first  taking  root  in  American  soil. 

True  to  this  type,  the  colonel's  dress  in  itself  pro- 
claimed his  caste.  It  was  that  of  the  well-born  rural 
American  of  long-established  landed  estate,  a  trifle 
quaint  and  out  of  date,  yet  of  a  certain  unmistakable 
dignity.  The  wide-brimmed  hat  of  soft  gray  wool, 
the  full-skirted  and  ample-breasted  dark  frock-coat, 
the  waistcoat  of  white  duck,  the  wide  white  linen 
collar  and  carefully  knotted  black  cravat,  the  gener- 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

ously  shown  and  many  pleated  shirt  bosom,  the  com- 
fortably cut  gray  trousers,  falling  easily  over  low 
shoes  tied  with  broad  ribands  of  black  silk,  the  gold- 
headed  cane  swung  leisurely  in  rhythmic  unison  with 
its  owner's  tranquil  progress  through  life — these 
seemed  as  much  a  part  of  Colonel  Todhunter  and  the 
class  for  which  he  stood  as  the  Colonel's  frank  and 
clear- featured  countenance  itself. 

Colonel  Todhunter  laid  his  cane  on  Judge  Boi- 
ling's office  table  as  he  entered  and  executed  his  ges- 
ture of  courteous  salutation. 

"Well,  Judge,"  he  said  jubilantly,  "the  fight's 
begun,  and  we've  got  to  rally  around  old  Bill  Strick- 
land to  a  fare-you-well,  suh!  I-gad,  suh,  I  ain't 
a-goin'  to  be  content  with  nothin'  less'n  whippin' 
that-there  Stephen  K.  Yancey  outfit  to  a  frazzle, 
suh!" 

Especially  in  his  speech  was  Colonel  Todhunter's 
fidelity  to  type  in  evidence.  It  was  a  blend  of  the 
softly  blurred  speech  of  the  fully  accredited  South- 
erner, some  of  which  is  frankly  borrowed  from  the 
liquid  vernacular  of  the  plantation  negro.  It  had  a 
touch  of  western  vigor  at  times,  and,  most  curi- 
ously distinctive  of  all,  it  revealed  more  than  a  few 

3 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

colloquial  survivals  of  that  Seventeenth  Century 
England  whence  came  Colonel  Todhunter's  first 
American  ancestor,  Geoffrey  Todhunter,  younger 
brother  of  Sir  Giles  of  kindly  and  humorous  Sussex 
memory. 

Old  Judge  Boiling  smiled  at  the  Colonel's  zestful 
hailing  of  the  imminent  combat.  "You're  right, 
Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  agreed.  "And  the  sooner 
we  get  plump  into  the  middle  of  the  fight,  the  bet- 
ter, sir.  It  can't  begin  too  soon  to  please  me !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  nodded.  Then  his  gray-blue 
eyes  twinkled  significantly.  "Judge,"  he  said,  "the 
Nineveh  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy  are  givin' 
a  picnic  down  at  Indian  Springs  to-day,  and  they're 
goin'  to  set  a  dinner  at  a  dollar  a  head  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  Confederate  Soldiers'  Home  at  Higgins- 
ville,  suh.  I  reckon  all  that  ain't  no  particular  news 
to  you,  but  I  thought  maybe  you'd  enjoy  goin'  down 
there  with  me,  suh.  I'd  be  tickled  to  death  to  have 
you!" 

Old  Judge  Boiling  scowled  ferociously  at  the 
Colonel.  "Look  here,  Thurs,  if  you  think  I'm  going 
to  start  in  on  this  fight  by  working  the  Daughters 
of  the  Confederacy  as  a  political  proposition,  you're 

4 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

very  badly  mistaken.     You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself,  you  old  campaign  fox!" 

"Who  said  I  was  proposin'  to  work  the  Daugh- 
ters ?"  retorted  Colonel  Todhunter.  "I'm  just  sayin' 
that  you  and  me  could  have  a  mighty  good  time 
down  there  at  their  picnic.  Th'  ain't  no  law  com- 
pellin'  us  to  do  any  electioneerin'  work  among  'em, 
suh!" 

Judge  Boiling's  lips  twitched.  "You  old  devil, 
you !  You  couldn't  any  more  keep  from  campaign- 
ing among  the  Daughters  than  a  yearling  colt  can 
keep  from  kicking  up  its  heels  in  the  pasture,  and 
you  know  it.  You  can't  fool  me." 

"What  I  can't  do  and  what  a  yearlin'  colt  can't  do 
are  two  mighty  different  things,  Judge,"  answered. 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "But  I  ain't  connected  with 
old  Bill  Strickland's  campaign  in  no  official  capacity 
that  I'm  aware  of,  and  if  I  see  fit  to  turn  a  trick  on 
my  own  hook,  that's  nobody's  blame  business  but 
mine,  suh.  Besides,  maybe  it's  Nineveh  I'm  a-work- 
in'  for,  'stead  of  old  Bill  Strickland.  Maybe  Nine- 
veh ain't  nothin'  but  a  one-hoss  river  town,  sleepy 
and  old-fashioned  like  some  folks  say,  but  Mizzoo- 
rah  sent  a  Nineveh  man  to  the  United  States  Senate 

5 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

once,  don't  you  forget  it,  and  maybe  I'm  just  workin' 
to  get  her  to  send  another  to  hold  down  the  gov- 
ernor's job  in  Jefferson  City,  suh.  And  if  that  gov- 
ernor happens  to  be  my  friend  Bill  Strickland,  and 
if  it  so  comes  about  that  the  Nineveh  Daughters  of 
the  Confederacy  are  led,  accidental  like,  to  enthuse 
a  good  deal  in  workin'  for  old  Bill  Strickland — well, 
I  reckon  th'  ain't  no  great  harm  done  even  then,  is 
there,  Judge?" 

Then  the  Colonel  chuckled.  "I'll  tell  you  one  thing, 
and  that  ain't  two :  I'd  ruther  have  a  woman's  prom- 
ise to  make  her  husband  vote  for  me  or  my  candidate 
than  to  have  a  man's  own  word  on  a  stack  o'  Bibles 
a  mile  high,  suh.  It's  only  up  to  the  man  to  keep  his 
word.  But  it's  up  to  the  woman  to  prove  that  she 
can  manage  her  husband.  And  she'll  do  that,  suh,  or 
die  in  the  attempt." 

Old  Judge  Boiling  laughed.  "Well,  Thurs,"  he 
said,  "I've  just  been  fooling  with  you,  anyway. 
Mrs.  Todhunter  herself  stopped  at  our  house  this 
morning  and  took  Mrs.  Boiling  along  with  her,  and 
she  made  me  promise  to  come  later,  so  it's  all  right. 
They'll  have  no  excuse  for  saying  that  we're  there  in 
Colonel  Strickland's  interest,  so  you  and  I  can  go 

6 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

down  to  Indian  Springs  with  a  perfectly  easy  con- 
science." 

"Th'  wouldn't  be  nothin'  on  my  conscience,  even 
if  Mrs.  Todhunter  hadn't  asked  you,  suh,"  avowed 
Colonel  Todhunter  placidly.  "I  know  when  I'm 
sinnin'  and  when  I  ain't,  and  this  is  one  o'  the  few 
times  I  ain't.  I  could  face  every  last  Daughter 
in  all  Nineveh  this  very  minute,  includin'  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter herself,  without  turnin'  a  hair,  suh." 

An  hour  later  old  Judge  Boiling  and  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter emerged  upon  the  picnic  grounds  in  company, 
having  driven  down  in  the  Colonel's  buggy.  Mrs. 
Todhunter,  an  ardent  Daughter,  had  gone  early  in 
the  day,  taking  the  old  family  barouche,  laden  with 
good  things  for  the  dinner. 

"Mrs.  Todhunter,  suh,"  the  Colonel  remarked  on 
the  way  down,  "would  ruther  feed  other  people  than 
set  herself  down  to  a  good  meal's  vittles  any  day. 
I'll  be  jim-swizzled  if  I  don't  believe,  when  she  gets 
to  Heaven,  it'll  sorter  disappoint  her  if  folks  don't 
get  hungry  there,  and  if  the  Old  Marster  don't  let 
her  fix  'em  somethin'  fit  to  eat,  suh !" 

Mrs.  Todhunter,  a  white-haired  old  aristocrat  of 
the  ante-bellum  type,  advanced  to  meet  her  husband 

7 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

and  his  friend.  If  Mrs.  Todhunter  had  a  fault  it 
was  that  she  tacitly  regarded  all  Nineveh  as  being 
vassal  to  her  social  suzerainty  and  bore  herself  some- 
thing as  might  the  ruling  monarch  of  some  little 
principality.  But  this  manner  was  not  apparent  in 
her  bearing  toward  old  Judge  Boiling,  whom  she 
knew  as  being  of  her  own  caste. 

"I'm  very  glad  you've  come,  Judge!"  she  said 
laughingly.  "And  especially  right  now.  It  may 
take  you  and  Colonel  Todhunter  both  to  make  our 
Mary  and  young  Tom  Strickland  behave  themselves, 
sir.  Tom  has  already  kidnapped  Mary  away  some- 
where, after  I  put  them  to  work  spreading  table- 
cloths, and  I've  been  vowing  all  sorts  of  vengeance 
on  both  of  them.  I  don't  approve  of  Tom's  behavior 
at  all,  Judge!" 

"It  pains  me  to  disagree  with  a  lady,  madam,"  re- 
plied the  white-haired  old  judge  gallantly,  "but  I 
must  say  I  approve  of  Tom's  conduct  in  getting 
Miss  Mary  Todhunter  off  to  himself  at  every  chance, 
ma'am!" 

"That's  all  very  fine,  Judge,"  said  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter, laughing  and  shaking  her  head,  "but  Mary 
has  no  business  permitting  Tom  Strickland  to 

8 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

monopolize  her.  She  came  out  here  with  Stamford 
Tucker.  I  wouldn't  blame  Stam  in  the  least  if  he 
got  ugly  about  it." 

"Neither  would  I,  ma'am,"  conceded  the  judge. 
"I'd  be  more  inclined  to  blame  him  if  he  didn't. 
Miss  Mary  is  too  pretty  a  girl  for  any  young  man  to 
lose  without  feeling  cut  up  about  it,  and  I  reckon 
Stam  Tucker's  no  more  than  human.  Nevertheless, 
if  I  was  Tom's  age,  I'd  try  to  do  exactly  what  he 
has  just  done,  and  that's  the  truth!" 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  Judge 
Boiling!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Todhunter.  Then  she 
laughed  and  pointed  an  accusing  finger.  "There 
they  are  now,  looking  like  butter  wouldn't  melt  in 
their  mouths.  Won't  you  go  over  there  for  me, 
Judge,  and  tell  Tom  Strickland  to  behave  himself, 
and  send  Mary  to  me,  right  away?  There's  no 
earthly  use  in  Colonel  Todhunter  going,  because 
neither  one  of  them  would  mind  a  word  he  says!" 
Old  Judge  Boiling,  laughing,  moved  off  toward  the 
young  couple. 

Mrs.  Todhunter  turned  to  the  Colonel.  "You  see 
I  know  you  like  a  book,  Colonel  Todhunter!"  she 
said,  her  eyes  twinkling.  "You  think  everything 

9 


young  Tom  Strickland  does  is  just  right,  and  you'd 
stand  up  for  him  quicker  than  his  own  father.  And 
as  for  Mary,  she  can  twist  you  around  her  finger 
any  time.  Don't  think  I  place  any  dependence  upon 
you  where  they're  concerned,  sir!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  smiled  calmly.  "I  ain't  askin' 
you  to,  Mary,"  he  retorted.  "In  the  first  place,  I 
approve  of  Tom's  fallin'  as  deep  in  love  with  Mary 
as  he  knows  how.  In  the  second  place,  interferin' 
in  these  here  sentimental  affairs  is  a  mighty  ticklish 
business,  and  I'm  here  at  this  picnic  to  have  a  good 
time.  I'm  a-goin'  to  have  it,  too!"  Saying  which, 
he  beat  a  hasty  retreat. 

But  he  had  hardly  succeeded  in  placing  a  section 
of  the  picnic  crowd  between  himself  and  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  when  a  young  girl  came  running  along  his 
trail,  breathless,  and  with  mischievous  eyes. 

"Mrs.  Todhunter  wants  you  to  come  right  back  to 
her,  Colonel,"  she  announced.  "She's  short  on  men 
to  help  her,  and  she's  awful  busy.  Wants  you  to 
come  right  away,  sir !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  glanced  whimsically  at  the 
messenger.  "Ain't  that  just  like  a  man's  wife  ?  She 
didn't  want  Judge  Boiling  when  she  saw  him.  Oh, 

10 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

no.  It's  me  she  wants.  And  I'll  bet  she's  got  the 
hardest  job  on  the  grounds  picked  out  for  me  right 
now !" 

Then  he  turned  to  the  amused  girl.  "Thank  you, 
Miss  Louise,"  he  said  ruefully.  "Please  tell  Mrs. 
Todhunter  I'll  be  there  in  two  or  three  minutes.  Oh, 
of  course,  you  got  to  laugh  at  me.  There's  nothin' 
you  women  like  better  than  to  see  a  man  ordered 
around  by  his  wife.  And  I'm  a-goin'  to  obey  orders, 
too.  But  I'll  get  back  there  by  mighty  slow  degrees, 
I  tell  you!"  With  which  he  began  a  dignified  re- 
treat. 

Suddenly,  but  a  little  distance  ahead,  he  saw  Tom 
Strickland  parting  from  Mary.  They  were  a  hand- 
some couple,  the  Colonel's  daughter  an  exquisite 
type  of  the  well-born  southern  girl,  her  hair  and 
eyes  a  rarely  pure  brown,  her  skin  of  almost  baby 
fairness,  a  proud  little  mouth,  a  joyous  bearing ;  the 
youth  a  tall  and  well-built  young  country-bred 
gentleman,  his  eyes  a  clear  blue,  his  hair  a  sun- 
burned yellow,  his  mouth  and  chin  clean-cut  and 
firm.  Colonel  Todhunter  approved  heartily  of  both. 

As  Mary  left  her  companion  and  went  to  join  her 
mother,  a  second  girl,  with  obvious  intent,  crossed 

ii 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Tom  Strickland's  path.  She  was  of  a  different  type, 
a  plebeian  beauty,  black-haired,  with  passionate  eyes, 
full  red  lips,  a  suggestion  of  rich  animal  life  in  her 
movements. 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  Tom 
Strickland !"  she  said  in  a  low  tone,  a  little  break  in 
her  voice.  "You  let  me  drop  like  I  was  somethin' 
you  despised  just  the  minute  you  caught  sight  of 
Mary  Todhunter.  I  wouldn't  treat  a  dog  that  way, 
Tom!" 

There  was  something  pitiful  in  the  utter  frankness 
of  surrender  with  which  the  speaker's  eyes  confessed 
her  liking  for  Tom  Strickland.  Colonel  Todhunter 
knew  her  well.  She  was  the  granddaughter  of  old 
"Rafe"  Doggett,  who  had  been  a  private  soldier  in 
a  Confederate  regiment  during  the  Civil  War.  The 
family  belonged  to  the  class  once  known  as  "poor 
whites,"  but  old  Doggett  had  been  a  good  soldier, 
and  Lottie-May,  his  granddaughter,  owed  her  mem- 
bership in  the  Daughters  of  the  Confederacy  to  the 
esteem  in  which  he  was  held. 

This  was  even  more  than  a  concession  to  inferior 
caste.  The  darkly  beautiful  country  girl  whom  old 
Rafe  Doggett's  son  had  married  in  another  state 

12 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

had  gone  away  from  home  one  day,  leaving  her  baby 
daughter  behind,  and  never  returned.  A  pictur- 
esquely handsome  "Indian  herb  doctor,"  who  had 
been  peddling  his  wares  in  Nineveh  for  some  days, 
and  was  known  to  have  paid  bold  attentions  to  her, 
disappeared  at  the  same  time.  Lottie-May  Doggett, 
inheriting  the  same  vital  beauty  of  soft  roundness, 
red  lips  and  sensuous  black  eyes,  had  grown  up  in 
Nineveh,  defiant,  under  the  shadow  of  her  mother's 
shame. 

Tom  Strickland  stared  at  the  girl,  plainly  sur- 
prised. "Why,  Lottie-May!"  he  exclaimed.  "I 
won't  let  you  think  such  a  thing!  I  only  hurried  to 
say  'howdy'  to  Miss  Mary  because  she  had  just  got 
here.  Anyway" — and  here  he  smiled  teasingly — "I 
could  see  with  one  eye  that  Stam  Tucker  was  just 
wild  to  have  a  talk  with  you!" 

Lottie-May's  eyes  flashed.  "Stam  Tucker — 
shucks !"  she  cried  scornfully.  "I  wouldn't  wipe  my 
feet  on  him,  Tom,  when  you're  around,  and  you 
know  it!  But  I  can  tell  you  one  thing" — and  here 
a  note  of  proud  vanity  sounded  in  her  voice —  "tryin5 
hard  as  he  is  to  git  Miss  Mary  Todhunter  to  marry 
him,  just  like  you  are,  Stam  Tucker  loves  me  more 

13 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

in  one  minute  than  he  will  love  her  in  his  whole  life- 
time!" 

"Lottie-May!"  ejaculated  Tom  angrily,  "you 
mustn't  talk  like  that!  You  ought  to  be  ashamed. 
You've  got  no  right  to  couple  Miss  Mary  Tod- 
hunter's  name — " 

"No,  no,  that's  it!"  interrupted  the  girl  hotly. 
"I  mustn't  mention  Mary  Todhunter's  name  in  the 
same  breath  with  mine.  It  ain't  right,  you  think! 
Well,  I  will— and  I  hate  her !  I  hate  her !" 

"I  didn't  mean  that,  Lottie-May,"  protested  Tom. 
"You  know  I  didn't  mean  that — " 

But  the  girl  was  gone.  Hagar-like,  she  moved 
with  a  sort  of  outcast  pride,  her  pretty  head  held 
high,  her  eyes  flashing.  In  a  moment  she  had  disap- 
peared in  the  crowd. 

"Tom,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  advancing, 
"you'd  better  be  hurryin'  to  where  Mrs.  Todhunter 
is,  and  make  your  peace  for  stealin'  Mary  away. 
You're  in  hot  water,  young  man !" 

Tom  Strickland  flushed  consciously.  "Colonel, 
I  reckon  you  heard  what  Lottie-May  Doggett  was 
saying  to  me?" 

"I  couldn't  very  well  help  it,  Tom." 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

"Well,  sir,  you  mustn't  draw  any  wrong  con- 
clusions from  what  she  said,  Colonel  Todhunter. 
Lottie-May's  a  good  girl,  so  far  as  I  know,  and  I've 
always  felt  sorry  for  her.  But  she's  been  brought  up 
under  a  cloud  and  it's  made  her  sorter  reckless  and 
full  of  the  devil.  I  don't  believe  she  cares  how 
black  she  paints  herself,  and  I  think  too  much  of  her 
to  take  her  at  her  word  about  knowing  that  Stam 
Tucker  loves  her  and  makes  love  to  her  without 
thinking  of  marrying  her.  That's  just  her  wild  talk, 
sir." 

"She's  certainly  grown  up  to  be  a  mighty  pretty 
girl,  Tom,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter.  "And  now 
that  you've  broached  the  subject,  and  I've  heard 
what  I  have,  will  you  let  me  give  you  a  word  of 
advice  ?" 

"Certainly,  Colonel,"  replied  Tom. 

"Well,  Tom,  speakin'  plainly,  it's  this.  iYou  bet- 
ter fight  mighty  shy  of  Lottie-May  hereafter,  suh. 
I  don't  mean  anything  against  the  girl.  But  she 
thinks  a  lot  of  you,  and  she  don't  mind  lettin'  you 
know  it,  and  that  makes  a  mighty  dangerous  situa- 
tion. It  ain't  safe  to  play  with  fire,  Tom,  'specially 
when  a  girl  like  Lottie-May  is  blowin'  the  flame." 

15 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Oh,  pshaw,  Colonel !"— but  Tom  Strickland 
laughed  uneasily.  "Lottie-May  can't  harm  me  any. 
And  I  don't  want  to  hurt  her  feelings,  sir." 

"That's  all  right,  Tom.  But  you  just  take  my 
word  for  it.  The  best  way  not  to  hurt  her  feelin's 
after  this  is  to  keep  away  from  her,  suh.  I'm  a  good 
deal  older'n  you,  and  I  know  what  I'm  talkin'  about" 

Then,  seeing  that  the  young  man  was  ill  at  ease 
and,  maybe,  inwardly  resentful,  Colonel  Todhunter 
left  him,  to  his  obvious  relief. 

But  the  Colonel  himself  shook  his  head  doubtfully. 
"There  ain't  no  bigger  fool  on  earth,  suh,"  he  com- 
muned with  himself,  "than  a  healthy  young  chap  in 
his  twenties,  with  a  head  fuller  of  women  than  a 
squash  is  of  seeds — and  just  about  as  soft  as  that 
there  squash,  too,  suh.  I  don't  like  to  think  of 
Tom  Strickland,  with  Mary  on  one  side  of  him,  and 
him  lovin'  the  very  ground  she  walks  on,  and  Lottie- 
May  Doggett  on  the  other  side  of  him,  and  her  lovin' 
him  the  way  she  does  love  him.  Old  Solomon  him- 
self'd  have  his  hands  full  with  such  a  proposition. 
And  old  Solomon  has  forgot  more  about  women 
than  Tom  Strickland'll  ever  know  if  he  lives  to  be 
a  hundred." 

16 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

Even  as  he  thus  mused  an  approaching  figure 
brought  a  humorous  grin  to  Colonel  Todhunter's 
lips.  It  was  the  martial  figure  of  Captain  Sim  Bird- 
song  of  the  Nineveh  Light  Infantry,  but  without  the 
aggressive  support  of  his  regimentals,  and  with 
dejection  in  his  every  line.  Sim's  face  was  the  tragic 
mask  itself. 

"Great  name  above,  Cap'n!"  vociferated  the  Colo- 
nel, mock  apprehension  in  his  tone,  "what  in  thun- 
deration  is  the  matter,  suh?  You  look  like  you'd 
lost  your  last  friend  on  earth!" 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  said  Sim  solemnly,  "you're 
the  very  man  I  wanted  to  see,  suh.  I'm  in  a  peck  of 
trouble,  and  I'm  a-goin'  to  ask  you  to  tell  me  the  best 
way  out  of  it,  if  you'll  be  so  kind,  suh — you  havin' 
more  experience  in  the  world  than  me." 

"Sim,"  replied  Colonel  Todhunter,  "I  don't  know 
whether  I  can  or  not,  but  I'll  do  my  level  best,  suh. 
Specify  your  trouble." 

"Colonel,"  responded  Sim  wearily,  "it's  Miss 
Angelica  Ex-all's  ma,  that's  what  it  is.  I  can't  shake 
her  off,  suh.  That  old  woman's  worse'n  the  seven- 
year  itch.  I  can't  get  rid  of  her  for  a  minute, 
Colonel  Todhunter !" 

17 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"My  good  Lord,  man!  Are  you  tellin'  me  that 
Mrs.  Exall's  fastened  herself  on  to  you  and  can't 
be  shook  off,  suh  ?" 

"It's  worse'n  that,  Colonel.  I  wish  that  was  it, 
'cause  then  I'd  stand  some  chance  of  gettin'  in  a 
word  edgewise  with  Miss  Angelica,  anyway.  But 
it's  her  she's  fastened  herself  on  to.  Yes,  suh,  that 
old  lady's  a-campin'  right  at  Miss  Angelica's  side, 
and  won't  let  me  come  within  a  mile  of  her,  suh. 
I've  been  hoppin'  around  all  day,  like  grease  on  a 
hot  skillet,  and  I  ain't  spoke  to  Miss  Angelica  yet, 
Colonel." 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  Sim  ?" 

"I  want  you  to  see  if  you  can't  toll  Miss  An- 
gelica's ma  away  from  her  for  a  little  while,  Colonel, 
that's  what  I  want.  The  old  lady  hates  me  worse'n 
poison,  so  I  dasn't  come  right  out  and  face  her,  suh. 
I  can  see  right  now,  plain  as  the  nose  on  my  face, 
that  I've  got  to  leave  this  picnic  without  sayin'  a 
blessed  word  to  Miss  Angelica,  'less'n  somebody 
helps  me  out  o'  the  fix  I'm  in.  Couldn't  you  figure 
out  some  way  of  doin'  it,  suh?  Miss  Angelica's  ma 
thinks  a  heap  o'  you." 

Colonel  Todhunter  smiled  grimly.  "Sim,  there 
18 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

ain't  but  one  way,  and  that's  by  draggin'  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  into  it.  I  ain't  got  no  business  doin'  that,  but 
I'll  try  if  I  can  make  the  riffle.  I'll  see  if  I  can't  fool 
Mrs.  Todhunter  into  sendin'  word  to  old  Mrs.  Exall 
that  she  needs  her  to  help  with  the  dinner.  But  you 
got  to  hide  out  when  that  word  is  delivered,  suh. 
From  what  you  say,  Miss  Angelica'll  have  to  go 
right  along  with  her  ma  if  there's  any  sign  o'  you 
bein'  in  the  neighborhood,  Sim." 

"Colonel  Todhunter,  that's  a  mighty  fine  idea, 
and  I  believe  it'll  work  like  a  charm,  suh.  If  I  get 
any  kind  of  a  talk  with  Miss  Angelica,  Colonel,  I'll 
be  grateful  to  you  all  the  rest  of  my  born  days !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  chuckled,  but  made  no  reply. 
The  next  moment  he  was  headed  for  the  spot  where 
his  wife  ruled  the  arrangements  for  dinner. 

"Well,  well,  Colonel  Todhunter!"  that  lady  cried. 
"I'm  certainly  surprised  to  see  you,  honey.  But  I 
reckon  you  must  have  heard  that  all  the  work's  done 
and  dinner's  about  ready,  and  you're  too  hungry  to 
wait  any  longer !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  laughed  into  Mrs.  Todhunter's 
bantering  eyes.  "Mary,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  do 
a  good  turn  for  poor  Sim  Birdsong." 

19 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Why,  what  in  the  world's  the  matter  with  Sim  ? 
That  boy  hasn't  gone  and  hurt  himself,  has  he?" 

"Mary,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "Sim's  havin' 
the  very  old  scratch  of  a  time.  He's  try  in'  to  get 
just  a  minute's  chance  to  court  Miss  Angelica  Exall 
and  her  ma  won't  let  him  have  it.  We  got  to  help 
him.  Don't  you  need  old  Mrs.  Exall  over  here  for 
a  minute,  Mary  ?" 

Mrs.  Todhunter  contemplated  her  husband  sternly. 

"Well,  I  do  declare,  Colonel  Todhunter!"  she 
ejaculated.  "If  I  was  such  a  dyed-in-the-wool 
matchmaker  as  you,  I'd  be  afraid  to  go  out  among 
young  folks  at  all!  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourself!" 

But  Colonel  Todhunter  held  his  ground  manfully 
— he  knew  Mrs.  Todhunter.  Not  in  all  Nineveh 
was  there  another  happily  married  woman  who  cher- 
ished a  deeper  sympathy  for  young  people  sweet- 
hearting  under  difficulties  than  did  Mrs.  Todhunter. 
Her  bosom  yearned  even  now  to  succor  Sim  Bird- 
song  in  his  sentimental  plight.  Her  eyes  took  on 
a  pensive  look.  Then  she  surrendered  uncondition- 
ally. 

"You  go  and  tell  Mrs.  Exall  to  hurry  over  here !" 
20 


THE  CONFEDERATE  DAUGHTERS 

she  said.  "It  so  happens  that  I  do  need  her  to  help 
dish  up  the  dinner.  If  I  didn't  I  wouldn't  send  for 
her  to  save  Sim  Birdsong's  life!"  But  Colonel 
Todhunter  knew  better. 

Half  an  hour  later  Sim  waylaid  him  in  a  grate- 
ful ambuscade.  "Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  said,  "it 
worked.  And  I've  said  some  words  to  Miss  Angel- 
ica Exall  that  I've  been  trying  to  say  for  a  month, 
suh.  I'll  never  forget  you  and  Mrs.  Todhunter  the 
longest  day  I  live,  Colonel!" 

Whereupon,  rejoicing,  Colonel  Todhunter  thence- 
forward devoted  himself  to  a  zealous  prosecution 
of  the  Strickland  campaign. 

"Judge,"  he  said  to  old  Judge  Boiling  late  that 
same  afternoon,  "it  don't  never  pay  to  miss  a  chance 
of  makin'  a  friend  in  politics.  A  man  never  knows 
till  election  day  just  how  bad  he'll  need  'em,  and  then 
it's  too  late  to  act  on  his  knowledge.  Yes,  suh — old 
'Lost  Opportunities'  has  beat  more  candidates  for 
office  than  all  the  men  that  ever  ran  on  the  opposi- 
tion ticket,  suh!" 

A  moment  later  he  laughed  to  himself. 

"I'll  tell  you,  suh,"  he  concluded,  "if  old  Bill 
Strickland  ain't  solid  with  the  Daughters  of  the  Con- 

21 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

federacy  here  in  Nineveh,  it  ain't  my  fault.  I  ain't 
never  worked  so  hard  with  the  women  since  I 
courted  Mrs.  Todhunter — and  she  shore  did  make 
me  work  overtime  and  no  mistake,  suh !" 


22 


CHAPTER  II 

MARY    TODHUNTER     ENTERTAINS     THE    GREEN-EYED 
MONSTER 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  was  seated  in  his 
favorite  cane-bottomed  arm-chair  at  the  far 
end  of  the  wide  "gallery"  extending  across  the  en- 
tire front  of  his  home,  an  old-fashioned  colonial 
house  of  hospitable  aspect  With  Mrs.  Todhunter 
he  had  just  returned  from  the  Daughters  of  the 
Confederacy  picnic,  and  they  were  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  Mary  and  her  escort,  Stam  Tucker,  before 
having  supper. 

The  Todhunter  residence  stood  on  the  crest  of  a 
gentle  slope  overlooking  the  pleasing  sweep  of  Mis- 
souri countryside  that  intervened  between  the  town 
of  Nineveh  and  the  Colonel's  own  peaceful  fields  of 
growing  corn.  Mrs.  Todhunter  sat  close  to  her  hus- 
band, her  hands  folded  in  her  lap,  her  happiness- 
sweetened  eyes  contemplating  the  pastoral  picture 
that  had  come  to  seem  a  vital  part  of  her  own  life. 

"They'd  better  be  almighty  quick  about  gettin' 
23 


COLONEL'   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

here,  if  they  know  what's  good  for  'em,"  grumbled 
Colonel  Todhunter  wistfully.  "I'm  as  hungry  as 
a  young  hound-dog  this  very  minute.  I'll  be  shot 
full  of  holes  if  my  stomach  don't  feel  like  my  throat's 
cut,  Mary.  I  could  eat  a  grindstone  right  now,  if 
somebody'd  bust  it  up  and  pass  it  to  me  on  a  plate 
for  real  vittles !" 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  Colonel 
Todhunter,"  smiled  Mrs.  Todhunter,  "after  that 
dinner  you  ate  at  the  Daughters'  picnic !  I  declare  to 
goodness,  I  was  afraid  they'd  all  think  you  never 
got  anything  fit  to  eat  at  home !" 

"When  I'm  ashamed  of  having  a  good  appetite, 
Mary,"  replied  Colonel  Todhunter,  "and  'specially 
if  I  ever  come  to  that  day  when  I  ain't  got  it,  I'll 
ask  the  Old  Marster  up  above  to  call  me  to  my 
heavenly  home.  Th'  ain't  no  man  got  a  right  to  turn 
away  from  wholesome  vittles  when  the  good  Lord's 
been  bountiful  enough  to  pervide  'em  for  that  man's 
eatin'.  Nature  don't  never  give  a  man  such  a  right. 
If  he  gets  so  he  can't  relish  his  food,  it's  one  of  her 
punishments  for  his  playin'  Tom  Fool  with  himself, 
sinnin'  and  skylarkin'  around.  And  I  ain't  never 

24 


THE    GREEN-EYED    MONSTER 

seen  no  piddler  at  meal  times  that  was  fit  to  do  a 
man's  work!" 

Mrs.  Todhunter  laughed  outright.  "If  you're  eat- 
ing to  get  ready  for  hard  work,  Colonel  Todhunter, 
I'm  certainly  glad  to  see  you  eat  hearty,  because 
you're  likely  to  be  kept  mighty  busy  nominatin' 
Colonel  Strickland  for  governor  of  Missouri.  You 
could  nominate  yourself  a  heap  easier." 

"Maybe  I  could,  honey,"  replied  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter, "but  Bill  Strickland's  a  mighty  popular  man 
all  the  same,  and  he  deserves  to  be.  I  reckon  I  could 
be  elected  easier'n  him,  too,  knowin'  blame  nigh 
every  Democrat  in  Mizzoorah,  but  I'd  make  a 
mighty  poor  governor.  You  got  to  handle  some  all- 
fired  measly  customers  in  politics,  and  I  ain't  got 
patience  enough  to  handle  'em  right.  That's  exactly 
where  old  Bill  Strickland's  got  me  beat.  He  can 
use  all  sorts  o'  men,  crooked  and  straight,  to  gain 
honest  ends — he  proved  it  when  he  was  chairman  of 
the  state  committee — and  that's  what  a  governor's 
got  to  do  to  accomplish  anything  worth  while. 
That's  why  I'm  workin'  for  Bill  Strickland.  He 
ain't  only  my  friend — he's  far  and  away  the  best 

25 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

man  for  governor  of  Mizzoorah  visible  to  the  naked 
eye  at  the  present  writin'." 

Mrs.  Todhunter's  comprehending  eyes  rested 
softly  on  the  Colonel's  grizzled  visage.  "Thurston," 
she  said,  "I  know  better  than  that.  I  know  better 
than  you  do  why  you'd  rather  have  Colonel  Strick- 
land run  for  governor  than  to  run  yourself.  It's  be- 
cause they  couldn't  pull  you  away  from  Nineveh  and 
this  old  home  of  ours  with  a  yoke  of  oxen." 

Something  of  incredulous  surprise  flashed  into 
Colonel  Todhunter's  face.  Then  his  eyes  swept 
lovingly  across  the  familiar  Missouri  landscape 
spread  out  before  him.  He  looked  at  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  and  smiled. 

"I  reckon  you've  guessed  it,  honey,"  he  spoke  at 
last,  almost  wonderingly.  "But  I'll  be  tarred  and 
feathered  if  I  ever  realized  it  until  you  told  me.  The 
good  Lord  above  us,  Mary — if  I  was  elected  gov- 
ernor and  knew  I  had  to  live  up  yonder  in  Jeff  City 
for  four  years,  I'd  die  of  homesickness  the  first  dash 
out  o'  the  box.  Th'  ain't  no  money  and  no  fame 
could  pay  me  for  doin'  it,  suh !" 

Mrs.  Todhunter's  eyes  gleamed  with  laughter. 
"That's  you  all  over,  Thurston,  and  I  wouldn't  have 

26 


THE    GREEN-EYED    MONSTER 

you  changed  a  speck,  not  for  anything  in  the  world. 
No,  not  even  if  the  dear  Lord  Himself  told  me  He 
was  willin'  to  do  it !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  contemplated  his  wife  gravely. 
"That's  a  mighty  lucky  thing,  Mary,"  he  replied 
then,  his  eyes  twinkling  just  a  trifle.  "Lucky  for 
you  and  a  blamed  sight  luckier  for  me,  'cause  I 
reckon  I  got  to  stay  just  like  I  am  to  the  end  o'  the 
chapter,  honey." 

At  that  moment  the  sound  of  young  voices  was 
heard  from  the  twilight-shadowed  avenue  leading 
up  to  the  house.  Then  a  buggy  drawn  by  a  high- 
stepping  bay  mare  came  into  view. 

"That's  Mary  and  Stam  Tucker,  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Todhunter.  "And  I'm  glad  Mary's  home.  I  don't 
like  that  skittish  horse  Stam  Tucker  drives." 

"That  there  mare  o'  Stam's  ain't  a  bit  more  skit- 
tish than  Mary  Todhunter  herself,"  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter responded,  chuckling.  "And  they're  both  a- 
goin'  to  give  Stam  the  surprise  of  his  life  one  o'  these 
days.  Just  look  at  Mary,  honey!  You'd  think  she 
was  a  kitten  set  right  down  by  a  saucer  o'  cream, 
she's  so  tickled.  She's  havin'  as  good  a  time  with 
Stam  Tucker  as  if  they  wan't  no  such  young  man  as 

27 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER  OF  MISSOURI 

Tom  Strickland  in  all  the  world.  And  right  this  min- 
ute she  wouldn't  give  Tom  Strickland's  little  finger 
for  Stam  Tucker's  whole  body  and  soul  and  all  old 
Eph  Tucker's  money  thrown  in  to  boot !" 

Mrs.  Todhunter  laughed  lightly.  "Mary's  just 
beginning  to  receive  company,  Colonel  Todhunter," 
she  expounded.  "And  like  all  girls,  she  wants  to 
have  a  good  time  with  her  beaux.  If  it  don't  happen 
to  be  Tom  Strickland  that's  handy,  it'll  be  Stam 
Tucker.  And  if  it  isn't  Stam,  it'll  be  somebody 
else." 

"Mrs.  Todhunter,"  returned  the  Colonel,  "you're 
wastin'  your  breath  tellin'  me  things  like  that.  I 
know  Mary  Todhunter,  and  I  knew  you  when  you 
was  Mary  Todhunter's  age.  If  she  ain't  the  livin' 
likeness  of  what  you  was  then,  I'll  eat  my  hat,  so 
what  can  you  tell  me  that  I  don't  know  already? 
Tom  Strickland  will  have  his  hands  full  bringin'  her 
to  a  standstill,  I  tell  you !" 

By  this  time  Mary  and  her  escort  had  reached  the 
house  and  Stam  Tucker  was  assisting  her  from  the 
buggy.  Mrs.  Todhunter  and  the  Colonel  advanced 
to  meet  them. 

"You've  got  to  stay  to  supper,  Stam,"  said  Mrs. 


THE    GREEN-EYED    MONSTER 

Todhunter.  "I  know  you  must  be  good  and  hungry, 
and  Colonel  Todhunter  will  have  old  Jupiter  take 
your  horse  around  to  the  stable.  You  and  Mary 
come  right  in  now." 

Stam  Tucker  gladly  accepted  the  invitation,  the 
Colonel  calling  to  old  Uncle  Jupiter,  the  faithful 
family  retainer,  to  take  charge  of  the  bay  mare,  and 
then  the  Todhunters  and  their  guest  went  in  to 
supper. 

But,  hungry  though  he  had  declared  himself,  and 
grateful  as  was  the  Missouri  supper  of  fried  chicken, 
egg-bread,  butterbeans  and  corn  on  the  ear,  with 
coffee  made  under  Mrs.  Todhunter's  own  super- 
vision, Colonel  Todhunter  found  time  to  divert 
himself  vastly  with  the  two  young  people. 

"You  boys  and  girls  these  days  are  a  mighty  low- 
spirited  lot,"  he  announced  gravely.  "I  was  a-study- 
in'  all  of  you  at  the  Daughters'  picnic,  and  I  never  in 
all  my  born,  days  saw  young  folks  miss  so  many 
chances  for  havin'  fun!" 

"Why,  father!"  indignantly  cried  Mary.  "I  think 
we  had  the  nicest  kind  of  a  time !  I  know  I  did,  any- 
way. Didn't  you,  Mr.  Tucker?" 

"Indeed  I  did,  Miss  Mary!"  promptly  replied 
29 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Stam  Tucker,  but  with  a  discomfiting  recollection  of 
Tom  Strickland  in  his  mind.  "And  it  certainly  was 
a  big  success  for  the  Daughters,  too.  They  must 
have  made  a  lot  for  the  soldiers'  home,  I  should 
think." 

"They'd  ha'  made  a  lot  more,"  said  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  "if  you  young  people  had  been  more'n  half 
alive.  What  the  Daughters  ought  to  ha'  done  was 
to  have  a  good  old-fashioned  fiddler  out  there  and 
got  up  a  big  barn-dance,  chargin'  everybody  extra 
for  dancin'." 

"A  barn-dance — oh!"  mocked  Mary,  her  pretty 
nose  uptilted.  "I'd  like  to  see  myself  taking  part  in 
a  barn-dance — just  like  we  were  living  in  the  back- 
woods !" 

"You'd  see  yourself  enjoyin'  a  mighty  fine  frolic 
if  you  did,  young  lady!"  declared  the  Colonel  val- 
iantly. "Good  old  Virginia  reels  and  cotillions,  and 
a  mazurka  and  schottische  or  two  sandwiched  in  be- 
tween 'em,  ain't  to  be  sneezed  at,  let  me  tell  you !" 

The  speaker  glared  at  the  scornful  young  couple. 
Then  he  chuckled.  "And  you  ought  to  ha'  played 
kissin'  games,  too,"  he  resumed.  "  'Spin  the  Plate,' 
and  Tleased  or  Displeased,'  and  'Heavy,  Heavy, 

30 


THE    GREEN-EYED    MONSTER 

Hangs  Over  Your  Head.'  Great  name  above,  th' 
ain't  nothin'  like  them  there  old  games  for  makin' 
young  people  real  sociable!" 

Mary  tossed  her  head  disdainfully.  "Kissing 
games,  indeed!"  she  cried.  "If  that  ain't  old-fash- 
ioned, I'd  like  to  know !" 

"  'Course  it's  old-fashioned,"  agreed  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  the  light  of  relishful  teasing  in  his  eyes.  "So 
is  kissin'  itself,  for  that  matter.  But  I  won't  trust 
none  of  you  Nineveh  girls  behind  the  door  when 
there's  any  kissin'  goin'  on,  old-fashioned  or  no  old- 
fashioned,  Miss  Mary  Todhunter!" 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  father!" 
cried  Mary,  mightily  indignant.  "What  in  the 
world  will  Mr.  Tucker  think?" 

"I  don't  care  what  Stam  thinks,  it's  true  all  the 
same,"  returned  Colonel  Todhunter  gravely.  "And 
what's  in  it  to  be  ashamed  of?  The  trouble  with 
you  young  folks  nowadays  is  that  you're  skeered  to 
death  o'  bein'  natural.  You  know  you've  got  to  play 
the  old  game,  but  you  think  you're  smart  enough  to 
play  it  in  a  new  way,  and  you  ain't.  All  you  do  is 
to  spoil  the  game,  like  to-day.  I  didn't  see  ary  single 
one  o'  you  do  a  real  natural  thing  from  beginnin'  to 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF  MISSOURI 

end — and  I  had  my  eyes  peeled  every  last  blessed 
minute !" 

"I  can  vouch  for  that !"  laughed  Mrs.  Todhunter. 
"You  can't  keep  yourself  out  of  young  people's 
affairs  to  save  your  life,  Thurston." 

"I  want  to  help  'em  along,  that's  why,"  chuckled 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "But  I  must  say  I  had  mighty 
hard  sleddin'  on  that  there  job  this  day!"  At  this 
every  one  laughed. 

"Anyway,"  continued  Colonel  Todhunter,  as  they 
left  the  supper  table  and  returned  to  the  front 
gallery,  "it's  more  the  fault  o'  the  young  men  than 
it  is  of  the  girls,  I'll  be  flam-jiggered  if  it  ain't.  I 
never  saw  such  a  lot  of  I'll-run-if-you-touch-me 
beaux  since  the  good  Lord  made  me.  Ain't  that  so, 
Stam?" 

"I  hope  not,  Colonel,"  replied  Stam  Tucker,  laugh- 
ing. "I  certainly  did  my  best  to  give  Miss  Mary  and 
the  other  young  ladies  a  good  time."  He  looked  a  bit 
reproachfully  at  Mary  as  he  spoke. 

"Indeed  you  did,  Stam!"  said  Mary  quickly,  re- 
membering Tom  Strickland's  better  treatment  by 
her.  "You're  just  as  nice  an  escort  as  any  girl 
could  ask." 

32 


THE    GREEN-EYED   MONSTER 

Colonel  Todhunter  snorted.  "Long-sufferin'  pa- 
tience!" he  mocked.  "That's  just  the  trouble,  Stam 
Tucker!  All  you  Nineveh  boys  are  good  enough 
when  it  comes  to  fetchin'  and  carry  in'  for  the  girls, 
but  that  don't  count  for  shucks.  The  sort  o'  man 
they  like  is  the  man  that  bosses  'em  around,  that 
throws  his  handkerchief  at  'em  and  makes  'em  come 
when  he  calls,  and  none  of  you  Nineveh  sparks  seems 
to  have  sand  enough  for  that.  You  needn't  tell  me 
you've  got  it,  Stam  Tucker,  and  not  even  Tom 
Strickland — " 

"Speak  of  the  angels,  Colonel,"  Tom  Strickland's 
own  voice  interposed  from  the  lowest  step  of  the 
gallery,  "and  you  hear  the  flutter  of  their  wings!" 

"No,  I  don't,  not  by  a  jugful,"  retorted  Colonel 
Todhunter,  unruffled.  "When  any  of  you  Strick- 
lands  begin  sproutin'  wings,  the  world's  comin'  to  an 
end.  How  are  you,  Tom  ?  I  didn't  know  you  were 
there!" 

"Why  didn't  you  come  in  to  supper,  Tom  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Todhunter. 

"I  had  supper  at  home,  thank  you,  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter," answered  the  young  man,  ascending  to  join 
the  little  group  as  he  spoke.  "Howdy,  Miss  Mary. 

33 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Hope  you're  not  feeling  tired  after  the  picnic.  How 
are  you,  Stam?" 

The  jealous  antagonism  between  the  two  young 
men  made  itself  instantly  felt.  Stam  Tucker  plainly 
resented  Tom's  entrance  upon  the  scene.  The  latter 
as  plainly  showed  that  he  had  come  purposely  to  be  in 
his  rival's  way.  The  situation  was  greatly  to  Colonel 
Todhunter's  humorous  liking. 

"Well,  well!"  he  exclaimed  innocently.  "Great 
Scott  and  Maria,  you  must  have  hot- footed  it  away 
from  your  vittles,  young  man!  If  your  daddy '11 
only  get  such  a  move  on  for  governor  we'll  win 
hands  down !" 

Tom  Strickland  laughed.  "It  all  depends, 
Colonel,"  he  made  pointed  answer,  "on  how  badly 
my  father  wants  to  be  governor.  If  he  wants  it 
half  as  bad  as  I  wanted  to  call  on  Miss  Mary  this 
evening,  I'll  back  him  for  a  winner  against  all 
comers !" 

The  note  of  challenge  was  unmistakable.  Stam 
Tucker's  face  darkened  with  anger.  Mary  Tod- 
hunter  blushed  to  the  roots  of  her  hair.  The 
Colonel's  grim  lips  twitched  with  amused  approval, 
his  eyes  twinkling  under  their  shaggy  gray  brows. 

34 


THE    GREEN-EYED    MONSTER 

But  Mrs.  Todhunter  came  to  the  rescue  with  some 
placid  remark  that  eased  the  momentary  strain. 

A  little  later  she  and  Colonel  Todhunter  withdrew 
to  their  own  end  of  the  gallery,  leaving  Mary  to 
entertain  her  callers.  Colonel  Todhunter  was  vastly 
tickled. 

"Lord,  Mary,"  he  confided  to  his  wife,  "them  two 
young  rascals  wouldn't  like  nothin'  better'n  to  get  at 
each  other,  hammer  and  tongs,  this  very  minute !  I 
declare,  honey,  this  here  old  world  of  our'n  don't 
change  a  bit.  It's  percisely  like  our  own  young  days, 
I'll  be  eternally  whipsawed  if  it  ain't,  and  it's  been 
that  way  for  all  time — as  it  was  in  the  beginnin',  is 
now,  and  ever  shall  be,  world  without  end,  amen !" 

And  so  profoundly  interested  was  the  Colonel  that 
he  would  gladly  have  lingered  to  see  which  of  the 
two  young  men  "sat  the  other  out"  had  not  Mrs. 
Todhunter  fairly  compelled  him  to  accompany  her 
into  the  house  at  last.  It  was  with  a  sigh  of  genuine 
disappointment  that  he  arose  to  do  her  bidding. 

"Bless  my  soul,  it's  as  good  as  a  show!"  he  said. 
"But  I  don't  wonder  you  pull  me  away  from  seem' 
it,  Mrs.  Todhunter.  Your  daughter  Mary's  playin' 
every  one  o'  your  old  tricks  over  again.  You've  got 

35 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

good  reason  for  not  wantin'  me  to  keep  tab  on  'em 
at  this  late  day,  madam !" 

The  moon  had  just  moved  majestically  out  from 
behind  a  little  silver-edged  cloud.  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter's  eyes  swept  across  the  softly  mellowed  Mis- 
souri night-picture.  Then  he  nodded  his  head  as  if 
communing  with  himself. 

"You're  right,  honey,"  he  spoke  finally.  "Good 
Lord  above  us!  I'm  just  as  much  a  part  of  all  this 
as  our  old  house  here,  or  the  trees  and  the  grass 
and  them  there  cornfields  'way  across  the  pike  yon- 
der. Go  away  from  Nineveh?  Why,  they'd  have 
to  pull  me  up  by  the  roots  to  make  me  do  it,  suh !" 


CHAPTER  III 

"FOR  GOVERNOR — WILLIAM  J.  STRICKLAND  OF 
NINEVEH" 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER'S  heart  swelled 
with  an  unselfish  pridefulness. 

The  favorite  old  Mississippi  steamer,  Gray  Eagle, 
now  in  full  view  from  where  he  stood  at  the  Nineveh 
landing,  was  bringing  homeward  the  Honorable 
William  J.  Strickland  of  Nineveh,  at  last  an  avowed 
candidate  for  the  Democratic  nomination  for  gov- 
ernor of  Missouri. 

Colonel  Todhunter  himself  had  organized  the 
public  reception  at  this  very  moment  awaiting  the 
most  distinguished  of  Nineveh's  citizens.  "I'll  be 
shot  full  o'  holes,  suh,"  he  said  to  Dick  Cantrill, 
editor  and  proprietor  of  the  Nineveh  Weekly  Blade, 
"if  we  don't  show  the  people  of  this  here  state  what 
old  Bill  Strickland's  home-folks  think  of  him,  any- 
way. Th'  ain't  nothin'  more  helpful  to  a  candidate 
than  provin'  that  them  as  knows  the  most  about  him 
has  the  least  against  him,  suh." 

37 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"What  about  Squire  Tucker's  opposition,  Colo- 
nel ?"  asked  Dick  Cantrill. 

"That's  better'n  his  indorsement,  suh!"  retorted 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "Long  as  IVe  known  Bill 
Strickland,  if  I  knew  old  Eph  Tucker  was  supportin' 
him  I'd  be  against  him  on  suspicion,  suh,  blamed  if 
I  wouldn't!" 

Knowing  the  speaker  better  than  he  knew  himself, 
Dick  Cantrill  laughed.  Colonel  Todhunter  and 
Colonel  Strickland  were  friends  from  boyhood. 
Friendship  was  something  in  the  nature  of  a  religion 
with  Colonel  Todhunter.  In  his  simple  creed  he  did 
not  simply  "like"  his  friends.  He  loved  them  with 
a  trustful  steadfastness  that  knew  no  limitations  of 
loyalty  or  of  potential  sacrifice. 

"Barrin'  his  wife  and  children,  suh,"  Colonel 
Todhunter  was  wont  to  say,  "a  man's  friends  is  all 
that's  worth  while  in  this  here  world  of  our'n.  And 
his  old  friends,  them  that  was  young  with  him  when 
he  was  makin'  as  many  different  kinds  of  a  fool  of 
himself  as  the  law  allows — well,  suh,  th'  ain't  no 
price  can  be  set  on  'em,  neither  gold  nor  rubies  nor 
jasper  nor  frankincense  and  myrrh,  as  the  Good 
Book  says,  suh !" 

38 


STRICKLAND    OF    NINEVEH 

Colonel  Todhunter  had  been  vastly  impatient  for 
the  return  of  the  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland. 
When  the  Gray  Eagle  rounded  the  bend  in  the 
river  two  miles  below  Nineveh  and  waked  the  Mis- 
souri echoes  with  the  mellow  tunefulness  of  her 
famous  baritone  whistle,  the  Colonel's  face  became 
splendidly  illumined. 

"There  he  comes,  folks!"  he  cried.  "There 
comes  old  Bill  Strickland,  the  man  we're  a-goin'  to 
nominate  and  elect  governor  of  Mizzoorah!  All 
ready,  now?  Hip!  Hip!  Hooray!" 

A  mighty  cheer  rose  from  the  crowd  assembled 
on  the  Nineveh  wharf-boat  and  smote  afar  the  ears 
of  Colonel  Bill  Strickland,  where  he  stood  beside 
Captain  Beverly  Leigh,  on  the  Gray  Eagle's  upper 
deck.  The  candidate's  eyes  twinkled  as  they  met 
those  of  the  weather-beaten  river-man. 

"That's  old  Thurs  T.  Todhunter's  doing,  Bev,"  he 
spoke.  "I'll  bet  he's  got  nigh  about  all  the  male 
population  of  Nineveh  rallyin'  around  him  at  that 
landing.  The  old  rascal !" 

Once  more  the  cheering  from  Nineveh  throats 
rose  as  the  Gray  Eagle  neared  the  landing  and  the 
Honorable  William  J.  Strickland  waved  his  hand 

39 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

toward  the  waiting  multitude.  It  increased  in  vol- 
ume as  he  made  his  way  downward  until  he  stood 
pictorially  framed  in  at  the  farther  end  of  the  low- 
ered gang-plank.  It  was  a  great  moment  for  Nine- 
veh. 

Already  the  Nineveh  brass  band  was  playing 
Hail  to  the  Chief  with  tremendous  fervor.  The 
gorgeously  uniformed  Nineveh  Light  Infantry  stood 
in  company  front  at  parade  rest  behind  the  band. 
All  Nineveh,  it  seemed,  was  assembled  back  of  them 
on  the  wharf-boat  and  along  the  immediate  river 
front.  The  ardent  gathering  split  the  air  with 
shouts  of  high  acclaim  as  the  well-known  figure  of 
Colonel  Bill  Strickland  crossed  the  steamer's  gang- 
plank. The  next  moment  Colonel  Thurs  T.  Tod- 
hunter,  advancing,  was  seen  to  grasp  his  hand. 

Each  man  accomplished  a  splendid  cavalier  sweep 
of  his  wide-brimmed  soft  hat.  Then  they  stood  fac- 
ing each  other  in  a  fine  attitude  of  cordial  dignity. 
They  were  prime  types  of  two  of  the  four  strains  of 
pioneer  blood  that  are  blended  in  the  Missouri  type 
itself,  Colonel  Todhunter  coming  of  Kentucky  stock 
and  Colonel  Strickland  of  Tennessee.  Virginia  and 
New  England  were  the  other  contributors  to  the 

40 


STRICKLAND    OF    NINEVEH 

blend.  The  three  southern  states  named  are  respon- 
sible for  the  emotional  endowment  that  has  made 
Missouri  "spell-binders"  long  famous  on  the  stump. 
The  eastern  states  have  supplied  that  cooler,  steadier 
and  more  practical  strain  that  constitutes  Missouri's 
balance-wheel  in  character  adjustment. 

Linking  arms,  Colonel  Todhunter  and  the  Hon- 
orable William  J.  Strickland  moved  through  the  ap- 
plauding hosts  to  an  open  carriage. 

"After  you,  suh!"  said  Colonel  Todhunter  cere- 
moniously, waving  his  companion  to  the  seat  of 
honor.  "And,  suh,  I  beg  to  notify  you  that  this  is 
the  beginnin'  of  your  triumphal  progress  to  the 
executive  mansion  at  Jefferson  City,  suh !" 

Renewed  cheering  greeted  this  imposing  an- 
nouncement. The  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland 
took  his  place  in  the  carriage.  Colonel  Todhunter 
followed  him.  The  mayor  of  Nineveh,  the  editor 
of  the  Blade  and  other  local  celebrities  occupied  the 
remaining  vehicles. 

Captain  Sim  Birdsong  of  the  Nineveh  Light  In- 
fantry, a  veteran  of  the  Spanish  War,  now  stiffened 
until  his  spine  was  as  straight  and  rigid  as  a  ramrod. 
Ordinarily  Sim  was  rather  an  awkward  young  Mis- 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

sourian,  sandy-haired,  freckle-faced  and  easily 
abashed.  But  he  became  fiercely  martial  the  mo- 
ment he  donned  his  regimentals. 

"Cump'ny — 'Tenshun-n-n !"  roared  Captain  Sim. 
"Carry — humps!  Shoulder — humps!  Right  fo'- 
ward — fo's  right — march!  Col'm  right — march!" 

Even  as  the  thrilling  commands  were  given  and 
the  Nineveh  Light  Infantry,  in  column  of  fours, 
came  swinging  on  and  took  its  station  in  front  of 
the  Strickland  carriage,  the  Nineveh  brass  band  at 
the  head  of  the  column  struck  up  Stars  and  Stripes 
Forever  and  the  first  parade  of  the  Strickland  cam- 
paign for  the  governorship  of  Missouri  was  under 
way. 

"Seems  to  me,  Bill,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter  as 
the  carriage  moved  off,  "that  you  came  out  for  the 
nomination  at  exactly  the  right  minute  in  that  St. 
Louis  announcement  of  your'n.  The  old  machine 
crowd's  a-backin'  Steve  Yancey  to  a  fare-you-well, 
and  the  people's  sick  and  tired  of  the  whole  outfit, 
suh.  I  miss  my  guess  if  th'  ain't  a  stampede  in  your 
direction." 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland  smiled  doubtfully.  "Our 
side  seems  to  think  that  I'm  the  best  man  to  make  the 

42 


STRICKLAND    OF    NINEVEH 

race,  Thurs,"  he  spoke,  "but  you're  'way  off  if  you 
think  there  ain't  going  to  be  a  fight.  It'll  be  hot  and 
heavy  straight  down  the  line.  Whoever  wins  will 
win  after  the  toughest  scrabble  you  and  me  ever  saw 
in  Missouri  politics,  my  friend." 

"I  ain't  objectin'  none  to  a  fight,"  said  Colonel 
Todhunter.  "But  this  is  the  fust  time  in  the  history 
of  Mizzoorah  that  the  Democrats  nominate  their 
candidate  for  governor  at  the  polls,  'stead  of  in  a 
nominatin'  convention,  and  I  b'lieve  they're  a-goin' 
to  make  sure  of  an  honest  man.  It  looks  good  to  me, 
suh." 

Pausing  for  just  a  moment,  he  resumed.  "Here's 
the  way  I  size  up  the  situation.  Mizzoorah  Demo- 
crats know  now  that  the  old  gang  is  crookeder'n  a 
dog's  hind  leg,  suh.  They  know  you've  been  frozen 
out  of  the  state  committee  chairmanship  because 
that  bunch  ain't  got  no  more  use  for  you'n  a  hoss- 
thief's  got  for  a  square  sheriff.  You  stand  for  a 
return  to  straight  politics,  in  their  eyes.  And  now 
the  voters  don't  have  to  leave  the  nominatin'  busi- 
ness to  a  convention  that's  fuller  of  tricks'n  a  cur 
dog  is  of  fleas,  suh.  That's  why  I'm  a-countin'  on 
your  bein'  nominated." 

43 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Maybe  so,"  replied  the  other.  "But  the  ma- 
chine's going  to  fight  me  all  it  knows  how,  from 
start  to  finish.  The  fight'll  begin  right  here  in  my 
own  town.  Old  Eph  Tucker,  the  richest  man  in 
Nineveh,  is  Stephen  K.  Yancey's  personal  repre- 
sentative in  this  neck  o'  the  woods,  and  old  Eph 
Tucker  hates  me  so  hard  it  keeps  him  awake  at 
nights." 

"Well,  suh,"  chuckled  Colonel  Todhunter,  "if  the 
old  gang  waits  for  Eph  Tucker  to  spend  any  of  his 
money  in  politics,  they'll  wait  a  mighty  long  time, 
suh.  He  squeezes  ev'y  dollar  o'  his'n  till  the  eagle 
screams  and  flies  back  into  his  own  pocket,  and  you 
know  it." 

Colonel  Strickland  laughed.  Suddenly  he  held  up 
one  finger.  "What's  that?" 

A  sound  of  strident  music,  punctuated  by  terrific 
and  hollow  thumpings  at  rhythmic  intervals,  came 
from  the  little  strip  of  Nineveh  lying  between  them 
and  the  town  hall. 

The  light  of  battle  leaped  into  Colonel  Todhun- 
ter's  eyes.  "I'll  be  eternally  flimflammed,"  he  cried, 
"if  it  ain't  that-there  Nineveh  bugle  and  drum  corps 
that's  been  cavortin'  'round  here  at  the  head  of  the 

44 


STRICKLAND    OF    NINEVEH 

Stephen  K.  Yancey  Campaign  Club!  You  look-a- 
here,  Bill  Strickland!  If  them  fellows  has  had  the 
impudence  to  turn  out  on  parade  when  we're  a-wel- 
comin'  you  home  to  Nineveh,  I'll  sick  our  boys  on  to 
'em  as  sure  as  my  name's  Thurs  T.  Todhunter, 
suh!" 

Colonel  Strickland  was  laughing  outright. 
"What  did  I  tell  you?"  he  said.  "They  haven't  lost 
any  time  declaring  war,  and  somebody's  paying 
good  money  for  it,  too !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  leaned  out  of  the  carriage  and 
spoke  to  the  nearest  Strickland  partizan.  "You 
run  up  yonder  at  the  head  of  that-there  band,"  he 
said,  "and  tell  Samson  Meek  to  come  back  here  a 
minute.  I  want  to  see  him." 

Samson  Meek,  leader  of  the  Nineveh  brass  band, 
hurried  back.  He  was  so  buttoned  up  and  padded 
in  his  gorgeous  drum-major's  uniform,  topped  off 
with  a  gigantic  fur  shako,  that  the  sweat  poured 
down  his  lank  and  honest  Missouri  face  like  rain. 

"Samson,"  spoke  Colonel  Todhunter  ominously, 
"if  we  run  across  that  Stephen  K.  Yancey  bugle  and 
drum  corps,  I  want  you  to  drown  'em  out  and  keep 
'em  drowned  out,  suh.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

45 


Samson  Meek  brought  his  baton  to  a  present. 
"Colonel  Todhunter,  we'll  smother  'em,  suh.  I  just 
been  waiting  for  the  chance." 

"Then  you  go  back  and  tell  your  horn-tooters 
what's  expected  of  'em,  suh,"  commanded  Colonel 
Todhunter.  "  'Specially  that  little  fat  fellow  with 
the  horn  bigger'n  he  is.  Tell  him  to  blow  himself 
inside  out.  This-here  Strickland  parade  ain't  a-goin' 
to  be  interrupted  by  no  Steve  Yancey  and  Eph 
Tucker  foolishness  as  long  as  I'm  in  charge  of  the 
ceremonies,  suh !" 

Then  he  turned  to  Colonel  Bill  Strickland. 
"That  settles  it,  suh !"  he  snorted.  "I'll  be  shot  full 
o'  holes  if  I  don't  take  the  stump  for  you  myself, 
Bill  Strickland,  if  they're  startin'  the  fight  right  in 
your  own  town,  suh,  the  fust  minute  you  come 
home,  suh.  I'll  make  imperial  Mizzoorah  howl  for 
William  J.  Strickland,  too,  suh;  hang  my  picture  if 
I  don't!" 

In  full  view  of  the  parading  crowd  Colonel  Bill 
Strickland  grasped  Colonel  Todhunter's  hand. 
"You  old  war-horse!"  he  cried.  "I'd  rather  have 
you  stumping  Missouri  for  me  than  all  the  state 
committee  spellbinders  that  ever  breathed  the  breath 

46 


STRICKLAND    OF    NINEVEH 

of  life!  Bully  for  you,  Thurs!  We'll  fight  'em  to 
the  last  ditch !"  Great  was  the  cheering  at  this  inci- 
dent. 

But  the  Strickland  parade  did  not  encounter  the 
Nineveh  bugle  and  drum  corps  and  the  Stephen  K. 
Yancey  Campaign  Club  at  this  juncture. 

The  encounter  came  later. 

It  came  at  that  tremendous  moment  when  Colonel 
Thurston  T.  Todhunter,  majestic  on  the  town  hall 
stage,  was  just  reaching  the  fervid  peroration  of  a 
speech  that  was  to  close  with  the  inspiring  mention 
of  the  name  of  the  Honorable  William  J.  Strick- 
land as  Missouri  Democracy's  sure  choice  for  gov- 
ernor. 

It  was  a  premeditated  blow  at  the  glory  of  the 
Todhunter  brand  of  oratory,  the  cherished  pride  of 
Colonel  Thurs  T.  Todhunter's  ardent  soul. 

Entering  the  town  hall  and  defiantly  marching  up 
the  main  corridor  to  the  wide  double  doors  that  gave 
a  view  of  the  Strickland  meeting,  the  Nineveh  bugle 
and  drum  corps,  heading  the  Stephen  K.  Yancey 
Campaign  Club,  awoke  the  resounding  echoes. 

Never,  it  would  seem,  had  earth  heard  such 
clamor  of  trumpet  and  tambour. 

47 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

It  crashed  into  and  through  the  town  hall  assem- 
bly room.  It  rose  to  the  roof  and  came  thundering 
back  into  the  aisles.  It  smote  the  ears  as  with  cata- 
clysmic bolts  of  sound.  It  stilled  the  eloquence  of 
Colonel  Thurs  T.  Todhunter  as  if  that  mighty 
speaker  were  an  infant  lifting  voice  against  the 
voice  of  elemental  chaos. 

And  Colonel  Todhunter  paused,  crestfallen. 

Then  the  lust  of  righteous  battle  flamed  from 
his  indignant  eyes.  He  waved  his  right  hand  with 
a  Jovian  gesture.  "Drive  'em  away,  Samson !"  he 
shouted.  "You  and  Sim  Birdsong.  I  ain't  done 
yet!" 

And  the  gallant  Samson  Meek  rose  to  the  occa- 
sion. With  a  mighty  wave  of  his  baton  he  rallied  his 
bandsmen  in  close  order  behind  him.  Captain  Sim 
Birdsong,  no  less  dependable,  formed  the  Nineveh 
Light  Infantry  in  line  behind  the  band.  There  was 
a  magnificent  flourish  of  Samson  Meek's  silver- 
knobbed  rod  of  office,  a  quick  command  from  Cap- 
tain Sim  Birdsong,  and  then — 

The  Nineveh  brass  band  and  the  Nineveh  Light 
Infantry  deployed  into  the  corridor  and  charged 
the  enemy. 

48 


STRICKLAND    OF    NINEVEH 

It  was  an  assault  sonorous  and  irresistible.  Its 
slogan  was  "Hail  Columbia!"  This  gave  the  big 
horns  an  almost  unearthly  opportunity.  The  "little 
fat  fellow  with  the  horn  bigger'n  him"  seemed  re- 
solved to  obey  Colonel  Todhunter's  injunction  and 
"blow  himself  inside  out."  His  fellows  followed 
his  example.  The  resultant  cyclone  of  wind-clamor 
wiped  out  the  Nineveh  bugle  and  drum  corps  as  if 
it  had  not  been.  Triumph  shone  on  the  face  of 
Drum-Major  Samson  Meek,  truculently  waving  his 
glittering  baton. 

But  an  ominous  cry  rose  from  his  front.  "Rush 
'em,  boys !  Make  a  rough-house !" 

Even  as  the  Strickland  forces  leaned  forward  for 
a  countering  rush  into  combat,  however,  a  resolute 
figure  sprang  in  between  the  battle  lines.  It  was  the 
figure  of  Constable  Pete  Fanshaw,  embodying  the 
law  of  Nineveh.  It  waved  a  sternly  forbidding 
hand. 

"None  o'  that,  you  boys!"  he  shouted.  "I  ain't 
takin'  no  sides,  but  this-here's  a  public  meetin'  and 
it's  my  sworn  duty  to  see  that  there  ain't  no  dis- 
turbin'  of  the  peace.  Stam  Tucker,  you  turn  your 
men  right  around  and  march  'em  out  o'  here  double- 

49 


COLONEL"   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

quick !  And  you,  Tom  Strickland,  quit  your  edgin' 
up  to  git  a  lick  at  Stam !  There  ain't  goin'  to  be  no 
fightin'  here  this  load  o'  poles !" 

Every  young  chap  in  Nineveh  knew  Pete  Fan- 
shaw's  fiber.  He  stood  restrainingly  between  the 
lines.  He  was  not  to  be  trifled  with.  If  necessary, 
he  could  enlist  either  faction  under  the  standard  of 
the  law,  to  punish  the  aggressor  if  battle  were  pre- 
cipitated. 

Stamford  Tucker  glowered  at  him  for  a  moment. 
Then  his  eyes  narrowed  in  a  venomous  flash  at  Tom 
Strickland.  At  last,  sullenly,  he  gave  the  order  that 
set  the  Yancey  clan  in  motion  to  abandon  the  field. 

War  had  been  averted. 

And  five  minutes  later,  again  getting  up  steam, 
Colonel  Todhunter  completed  his  speech.  The  Hon- 
orable William  J.  Strickland  advanced  to  the  front 
of  the  stage  and  began  his  own  address.  Soon  the 
first  rally  of  the  Strickland  campaign  for  the  gov- 
ernorship of  Missouri  peacefully  reached  its  ap- 
pointed finish. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Thurs?"  asked  Colonel  Bill 
Strickland.  "Didn't  I  say  the  fight  would  begin  here 
in  my  own  town  ?" 

50 


STRICKLAND    OF    NINEVEH 

Colonel  Todhunter  nodded  his  head,  defiant.  "Let 
'er  begin,  suh!  We'll  stay  with  'em  till  hell  freezes 
over!  And  old  Eph  Tucker'll  get  more'n  he  bar- 
gained for,  too.  That  was  his  son  Stamford  a-lead- 
in'  them  rapscallions  that  tried  to  break  up  our 
meetin',  suh!" 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland  grinned.  "Well,"  he  said, 
"my  son  Tom  was  makin'  a  rush  for  Stam  Tucker 
from  our  side,  so  we're  about  even,  I  reckon !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  laughed  outright.  "Bill,"  he 
said,  "I'll  be  shot  full  o'  holes  if  this-here  campaign 
ain't  openin'  the  way  I  like,  suh !" 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland's  eyes  twinkled.  "That's 
you  all  over !"  he  retorted.  "Don't  you  know  I'm  go- 
ing to  be  put  to  my  paces  for  all  I  know  how,  and 
that  it's  pull  Dick,  pull  devil,  from  now  till  the  last 
Democratic  vote's  counted  on  election  day  ?" 

Colonel  Todhunter  gazed  at  his  friend  almost 
pensively.  "Bill,"  he  said,  "man  that  is  born  of 
woman  is  of  few  days  and  fearfully  and  wonder- 
fully made,  as  the  Good  Book  tells  us,  suh.  I  want 
you  to  win.  I'll  move  Heaven  and  earth  to  make 
you  win.  But  I'll  be  eternally  condemned,  suh,  if 
I'd  care  the  snap  of  a  whip  for  a  winnin'  that  wasn't 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

the  result  of  the  hottest  fight  we  knew  how  to  put 
up,  suh.  I  reckon  we're  constructed  that  way  on  pur- 
pose. We'd  be  a  mighty  scrubby  lot  if  we  wasn't 
always  ready  to  wrastle  our  blamedest  for  whatev- 
er's  worth  havin'  in  this-here  world,  suh !" 


CHAPTER  IV 

LOTTIE-MAY   DOGGETT   WEAVES   A   WEB   FOR   TOM 
STRICKLAND 

LOTTIE-MAY  DOGGETT,  her  dark"  and  eager 
face  alight  with  excitement,  had  attended  the 
political  meeting  which  followed  the  Strickland 
parade.  Nearly  all  Nineveh,  indeed,  ordinarily  so 
quiet,  was  in  public  evidence  this  night,  grateful  for 
a  little  diversion. 

The  girl  was  a  witness,  therefore,  to  the  dire  in- 
terruption of  Colonel  Todhunter's  speech,  and  had 
also  seen  the  clash  of  the  rival  factions  headed  by 
Tom  Strickland  and  Stam  Tucker.  Her  eyes  shone 
with  expectancy  of  a  personal  encounter  between  the 
two  young  men. 

"Lord,  I'd  like  to  see  'em  clench !"  she  exclaimed, 
pushing  a  bit  forward  as  she  spoke.  "They'd  make  a 
good  fight,  too,  seein'  as  how  there  ain't  been  no  love 
lost  between  'em  for  some  time.  I  bet  they'll  get  at 
it!" 

Her  companion,  a  girl  who  envied  Lottie-May 

53 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

that  partial  acceptance  by  Nineveh's  good  families 
which  was  due  to  her  grandfather's  honorable  Con- 
federate record,  laughed  a  bit  significantly.  "It 
won't  be  your  fault  if  they  don't  fight  some  day, 
Lottie-May  Doggett!"  she  charged.  "I  hear  you've 
been  settin'  your  cap  at  both  of  'em  in  a  mighty 
dangerous  way." 

"I  ain't  been  doin'  nothin'  of  the  sort!"  indig- 
nantly denied  Lottie-May,  resentment  in  her  face. 
"It  ain't  my  fault  if  Stam  Tucker  sets  up  to  me,  is 
it?  And  I  reckon  Tom  Strickland's  got  the  same 
right,  ain't  he  ?  You  better  mind  your  own  business 
and  let  my  affairs  alone !" 

"Land  alive,  what  a  spit-cat  about  nothin' !"  pro- 
tested the  other.  "But  Tom  Strickland  better  leave 
Stam  Tucker  alone.  My  brother  says  Stam  always 
carries  a  pistol  and  is  a  dangerous  man  when  his 
blood's  up." 

Lottie-May's  eyes  flashed  instant  disdain.  "I 
reckon  Tom  Strickland  can  take  care  of  himself," 
she  retorted  hotly.  "I  wouldn't  be  a  feared  for  him 
in  a  difficulty  with  Stam  Tucker !" 

Her  companion  laughed  triumphantly.  "I  caught 
you  that  time,  Lottie-May!"  she  cried.  "I  just 

54 


LOTTIE-MAY   WEAVES    A   WEB 

wanted  to  see  which  you  liked  the  best,  Stam  or 
Tom.  And  it's  Tom,  that's  who  it  is !" 

"You  think  you're  smart,  don't  you?"  coun- 
tered Lottie-May,  but  blushing  angrily.  "Well,  you 
ain't.  Neither  one  of  'em  is  makin'  me  lay  awake 
of  nights,  I  can  tell  you." 

"It'll  be  Tom  does  it,  if  anybody  does,"  calmly  re- 
turned the  other.  "But  they  ain't  a-goin'  to  clench 
this  time,  at  any  rate.  Pete  Fanshaw's  just  called 
'em  down  and  put  a  stop  to  their  foolishness." 

Lottie-May  was  still  fuming  with  resentment  of 
this  open  bantering  concerning  Tom  Strickland  and 
Stam  Tucker  when  she  started  homeward.  Not  at 
all  unwilling  to  accept  the  secret  wooing  of  either, 
she  intuitively  shrank  from  the  open  coupling  of 
their  name  with  hers.  The  shadow  of  her  mother's 
shame  oppressed  her,  and  it  was  only  in  moments 
of  sudden  anger  or  other  excitement  that  she  sur- 
rendered to  a  mood  of  reckless  defiance  of  her  dark 
inheritance. 

Even  now,  however,  it  gave  Lottie-May  a  thrill 
of  vainful  triumph  to  remember  that  Stam  Tucker 
was  awaiting  her  somewhat  farther  along  her  lonely 
homeward  way  through  the  night  and  that  he  would 

55 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

accompany  her  as  near  to  her  suspicious  old  grand- 
father's house  as  she  dared  permit.  But  Tom  Strick- 
land himself  intervened  before  her  meeting  with 
Stam  Tucker  this  night.  He,  too,  was  homeward 
bound,  encountering  the  girl  at  a  secluded  crossing 
of  their  respective  roads.  Lottie-May's  heart  gave 
a  great  leap  as  she  recognized  him  in  the  darkness. 
A  sudden  impulse  of  passionate  enticement  pos- 
sessed her  soul. 

"Goodness  me,  Tom  Strickland !"  she  cried.  "You 
skeered  me  'most  to  death!  I  took  you  for  one  of 
them  Black  Bottoms  men  from  the  trappin'  camp." 

Emphasizing  her  claim  of  panic  she  stood  very 
close  to  Tom.  A  loose  strand  of  her  hair  blew 
against  his  face.  Her  dark  eyes  were  velvety  with 
unconcealed  tempting,  her  voice  vibrant  with  the 
appeal  of  sex. 

"You  oughtn't  to  be  going  home  by  yourself  at 
this  time  of  night,  Lottie-May,"  said  Tom.  "It  ain't 
safe — for  as  young  and — and  as  pretty  a  girl  as  you 
are."  His  voice  shook  just  a  little. 

Lottie-May  laughed.  "There,  Tom,  you've  actu- 
ally paid  me  a  compliment!"  she  exclaimed,  a  peril- 
ous exultation  curving  her  red  lips.  "It's  the  first 

56 


LOTTIE-MAY    WEAVES    A   WEB 

one,  too.    Maybe  you  ain't  so  hard-hearted  in  the 
night-time  as  you  are  in  the  daytime,  Tom !" 

There  was  the  frankest  wooing  in  the  girl's  man- 
ner. She  moved  until  her  softly  rounded  young 
shoulder  touched  Tom's  arm.  The  young  man 
breathed  quickly,  his  eyes  suddenly  glowing. 

"I  never  saw  the  day  I  was  afraid  to  tell  you  how 
pretty  you  are !"  he  said.  "But  that's  just  the  trou- 
ble right  now.  I  don't  like  to  see  you  going  home 
alone  so  late  at  night." 

Lottie-May  Doggett  felt  a  hot  glow  of  love  for 
Tom  Strickland  thrill  her  young  body  through  and 
through.  At  the  same  instant,  though  remembering, 
she  recklessly  ignored  the  fact  that  Stam  Tucker 
was  waiting  for  her  farther  along  the  way. 

"Maybe  you  better  come  home  with  me  then, 
Tom,"  she  said  softly.  All  the  lure  of  sexual  sur- 
render sounded  in  her  speech.  Tom  Strickland 
laughed. 

"That's  what  I'm  going  to  do,  Lottie-May,"  he 
responded.  "I'd  never  forgive  myself  if  anything 
happened  to  you,  with  me  knowing  you  had  to  go 
home  alone.  You — you're  sure  you're  willing  for 
me  to  come  with  you  ?" 

57 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

The  girl's  eyes  were  liquid  soft.  "Willin'?"  she 
repeated.  "You  know  I'm  willin' — and  more  than 
willin',  Tom.  I  just  asked  you — and  I  ain't  never 
goin'  to  forget  this  night  as  long  as  I  live !" 

Again  Tom  Strickland  laughed.  "You'll  have  me 
making  love  to  you,  first  thing  you  know!"  he  said. 
"You'd  better  be  careful,  Lottie-May,  if  you  ain't 
willing!" 

"I  dare  you  to,  Tom!"  the  girl  replied  in  a  low 
voice.  "I  dare  you  to!  And  no  real  man  ever  took 
such  a  dare  from  a  girl !" 

They  were  moving  side  by  side  along  the  road. 
The  girl's  free  carriage  seemed  that  of  some  wild 
and  beautiful  young  animal  of  the  woods  and  the 
passionate  night.  Tom  Strickland  bent  toward  her, 
passing  his  arm  about  her  soft  little  waist. 

"You  don't  have  to  dare  me,"  he  said,  drawing 
her  closely  to  him.  "I  can  love  you  to  death !" 

"Kiss  me !"  whispered  Lottie-May  in  reply.  "Kiss 
me,  Tom !  I  love  you  so !" 

Even  as  she  spoke  Tom  Strickland  had  taken  her 
in  his  arms,  pressing  his  lips  to  hers,  crushing  her 
body  against  his  own.  The  girl's  red  mouth  seemed 
as  honey  to  him. 

58 


LOTTIE-MAY   WEAVES    A   WEB 

And  at  that  moment  Stam  Tuckc  \,  waiting  to 
meet  Lottie-May  by  appointment,  stepeed  out  of  the 
shadow  at  the  road's  edge.  His  face  was  black  with 
jealous  rage. 

Lottie-May  Doggett  gave  a  little  cry  of  dismay. 
"Why,  Stam!"  she  cried,  releasing  herself  from 
Tom's  arms  and  essaying  to  laugh.-  "You  are  wait- 
ing for  me  after  all,  ain't  you?  I  was  afeared  you'd 
gone  home,  so  Tom  Strickland  here  was  goin'  with 
me  instead." 

An  ugly  sneer  was  on  Stam  Tucker's  face.  "So  I 
see,"  he  replied,  glancing  venomously  from  one  to 
the  other.  "And  you  seem  to  be  having  a  good  time, 
both  of  you." 

"Oh,  shucks,  now,  Stam,  it's  nothin'  but  foolin', 
that's  all!"  cried  the  girl,  a  note  of  pleading  in  her 
voice.  "I  was  teasin'  Tom  for  bein'  bashful,  and  I 
dared  him  to  kiss  me,  and  he  wouldn't  take  a  dare 
—and  that's  the  whole  truth !" 

"I  reckon  it's  all  the  truth  you  intend  to  tell,"  re- 
plied Stam.  "But  I'll  tell  you  what  it  looks  like  to 
me.  It  looks  like — " 

"Stop  right  there,  Stam !"  interrupted  Tom  Strick- 
land. "If  you've  seen  anything  you  don't  like,  I'm 

59 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

the  responsib  • '.i  party.  Say  whatever  you've  got  to 
say  to  me,  no^pi)  a  woman !" 

"I  don't  asi<  anything  better,  Mr.  Tom  Strick- 
land!" instantly  retorted  Stam,  turning  swiftly  from 
the  girl.  "And  1  won't  mince  any  words  saying  it, 
either.  You're  a-)  " 

"Stam!"  cried  "  -ottie-May,  running  to  the  speaker 
and  placing  a  re.c  Twining  hand  on  his,  that  had  sud- 
denly been  thrift  back  to  his  hip  pocket.  "You 
shan't  do  it!  You  mustn't  do  it,  Stam!  It'd  ruin 
me  in  Nineveh  for  ever  and  ever!" 

"Let  him  alone,  Lottie-May,"  said  Tom  Strick- 
land. "He  won't  shoot.  Just  you  stand  aside  and 
let  him  crack  his  whip." 

Stam  Tucker  made  a  movement  to  throw  Lottie- 
May  off,  but  the  girl  clung  to  him  desperately.  Tom 
Strickland's  eyes  hardened,  as  they  watched  Stam 
Tucker,  with  an  ominous  alertness. 

A  farm-horse  drawing  a  ramshackle  spring- 
wagon  emerged  into  view  around  a  bend  in  the  road 
some  distance  away  and  came  lumbering  along  to- 
ward the  three. 

"Good  Lord,  it's  granddaddy!"  cried  Lottie- 
May  Doggett.  "For  my  sake,  please — please,  Stam, 

60 


LOTTIE-MAY   WEAVES    A    WEB 

you  and  Tom  both — don't  let  him  see  there's  been 
any  trouble!" 

Old  Rafe  Daggett,  white-haired  and  stern  of  vis- 
age, scowled  suspiciously  at  Lottie-May  and  her  com- 
panions as  he  brought  his  horse  to  a  halt. 

"Where  in  the  world  have  you  been  till  this  hour 
of  the  night,  Lottie-May?"  he  asked.  "I  was  on  my 
way  to  town  after  you.  What  have  you  been  doin', 
girl?" 

Lottie-May  stood  shamefaced.  "Why,  grand- 
daddy,"  she  replied  nervously,  "I  just  stayed  to  the 
political  meetin',  that's  all.  There  was  to  be  a  brass 
band  there,  and  speakin',  and  all  that,  and  I  just 
couldn't  come  away  till  it  was  over!" 

The  old  man  kept  his  accusing  eyes  on  the  girl's 
face  for  a  moment.  Then  he  turned  and  looked 
searchingly  first  at  Stam  Tucker  and  then  at  Tom 
Strickland.  Tom  felt  a  sudden  and  overwhelming 
sense  of  shame  and  self-reproach  and  pity  for  the 
good  old  man  whose  dread-harried  eyes  were  so 
somberly  bent  on  him. 

There  was  a  moment  of  silence.  "Well,  seein'  all 
there  was  to  see,"  old  Rafe  Doggett  resumed  then, 
"what  did  you  do  after  that,  girl?  How  comes 

61 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

it  that  you're  here  on  the  road  with  Stam  Tucker, 
facin'  Tom  Strickland  like  there'd  been  a  quarrel? 
Tell  me  the  truth !" 

Lottie-May  Doggett  flashed  a  quick  appeal  of  her 
eyes  at  Tom  Strickland.  It  was  plainly  a  mute  and 
desperate  entreaty  for  his  forbearance  with  whatever 
she  was  about  to  say. 

Then — "Why,  granddaddy,"  she  made  answer, 
"Stam  offered  to  escort  me  home,  and  we  met  Tom 
on  the  way,  and  we  just  all  three  stopped  to  talk 
for  a  minute — that's  all.  Quarrelin'?  Stam  and 
Tom  wasn't  thinkin'  of  such  a  thing,  that's  the  truth, 
I  cross  my  heart,  please,  sir !" 

The  girl's  voice  trembled  with  fear  of  her  grim 
old  grandfather,  to  whom  her  mother's  memory  re- 
mained but  as  meaning  a  lifelong  disgrace  and 
humiliation.  The  old  man  seemed  not  entirely  satis- 
fied with  her  explanation.  He  sat  silent,  still  study- 
ing the  group  confronting  him.  Then  he  sighed. 

"Well,  Lottie-May,"  he  spoke  at  last,  "since  Stam 
wants  to  escort  you  home,  he  can  still  do  it,  I  reckon. 
But  you  both  better  come  along  with  me  in  the 
wagon.  There  ain't  no  sense  in  your  walkin',  now." 

Lottie-May's  frightened  eyes  were  pleading  with 
62  • 


LOTTIE-MAY    WEAVES    A   WEB 

Stam  and  Tom  to  abide  by  her  story  and  comply 
with  her  grandfather's  wishes. 

"All  right,  Mr.  Doggett,"  spoke  Stam  finally.  "I'll 
be  specially  glad  for  Lottie-May  to  ride.  I  reckon 
she's  pretty  tired  by  now,  so  I'll  just  see  her  home 
that  way,  along  with  you." 

Tom  Strickland  stood  silent  as  Lottie-May  was 
lifted  into  the  wagon  by  Stam  Tucker,  who  mounted 
to  the  seat  beside  her.  Old  Rafe  Doggett  clucked 
to  his  horse. 

"Good  night,  Tom !"  cried  the  girl. 

"Good  night,  Lottie-May,"  replied  Tom.  "Good 
night,  Mr.  Doggett." 

The  next  moment  they  were  gone. 

And  Tom  Strickland,  shamed  to  the  soul  at 
thought  of  what  he  had  seen  in  old  Rafe  Doggett's 
worn  and  wasted  face,  made  his  own  way  homeward. 


CHAPTER  V 

A  LIVELY  SESSION  IN  THE  NINEVEH  "BLADE" 
SANCTUM 

THE  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland  and 
Colonel  Todhunter  were  parting  company 
for  a  few  days,  after  a  final  conference  concerning 
preliminary  campaign  plans. 

"I'll  have  to  get  back  to  St.  Louis  and  see  how 
things  are  starting  off  at  my  headquarters  there," 
said  Colonel  Strickland.  "Then  it'll  be  necessary  to 
take  a  run  across  the  state  and  establish  headquar- 
ters in  Kansas  City,  right  under  Steve  Yancey's  nose. 
I'll  want  you  to  make  a  few  speeches  for  me  in  St. 
Louis  about  next  week,  Thurs,  old  fellow.  And 
don't  forget — I'm  going  to  hold  you  to  your  prom- 
ise to  stump  the  state  for  me." 

"I  ain't  forgettin',"  responded  Colonel  Todhunter. 
"I'm  cocked  and  primed  for  a  campaign  that'll  bring 
every  old-time  Democrat  in  Mizzoorah  out  o'  the 
brush  and  set  'em  to  whoopin'  things  up  for  you  to 
beat  the  band,  suh.  The  almighty  dollar  ain't  the 

64 


IN    THE   NINEVEH    BLADE    SANCTUM 

only  thing  that  talks  in  this  here  state  yet,  not  by  a 
jugful,  and  I'm  a-goin'  to  prove  it,  Bill." 

"It's  what  we've  got  to  beat,  though,"  commented 
the  candidate.  "Things  ain't  like  they  used  to  be 
in  Missouri  politics,  my  friend." 

"That's  why  we  got  so  many  o'  them  professional 
politicians  and  so  few  real  statesmen  nowadays," 
replied  the  other.  "But  all  the  same,  the  people  of 
Mizzoorah's  honest,  if  the  politicians  ain't,  and 
this-here  new  primary  law's  a-goin'  to  give  'em  their 
best  chance  to  name  their  own  choice  for  governor, 
suh." 

"It  will — if  there's  no  crooked  work  at  the  polls," 
said  Colonel  Strickland.  "I'm  afraid  of  the  cities 
for  that  reason.  It's  the  city  crooks  that  beat  the 
country  vote  in  anything  like  a  close  race,  Thurs." 

Colonel  Todhunter  nodded  his  head  emphatically. 
"I'll  just  be  jig-whiffled  if  all  the  corruption  in 
American  politics  don't  seem  to  come  from  the  big 
towns,  suh.  It  looks  like  it's  plumb  natural  for  cities 
to  be  sinful.  It's  been  that  way  ever  since  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah,  suh.  Do  you  reckon  the  Old  Marster 
up  above  couldn't  ha'  found  ten  honest  men  among 
the  shepherds  watchin'  their  flocks  and  the  husband- 

65 


men  tillin'  their  fields  in  the  country?  He  couldn't 
ha'  missed  findin'  'em — 'less'n  He'd  struck  a  bunch 
of  'em  like  old  Eph  Tucker  here  in  Nineveh,  suh !" 

Then,  after  a  reflective  pause :  "The  trouble  with 
old  Eph  Tucker,  suh,  is  that  he's  got  so  he  can't  see 
anything  but  money.  I  ain't  talkin'  against  money 
in  its  rightful  proportion  to  the  rest  of  life.  I  like 
to  have  it  as  well  as  the  next  man,  and  sometimes  I 
need  it  mighty  bad,  too,  but  I'll  be  struck  limber- 
jawed  if  it  ain't  plumb  foolish  to  plug  up  your  eyes 
with  it,  suh.  It  don't  cost  a  cent  to  see  the  beauty 
and  goodness  o'  this-here  world,  suh,  not  a  cent,  and 
if  you  miss  seein'  it,  you  miss  seein'  the  whole  show. 
That's  too  big  a  price  to  pay  for  the  privilege  of 
lookin'  at  a  dollar  instead,  suh." 

The  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland  contem- 
plated Colonel  Todhunter  with  a  smile  on  his  grim 
lips. 

"Thurs,"  he  said,  "I  don't  know  anything  sounder 
than  your  faith  in  the  good  of  life  and  your  enthusi- 
asm for  livin'  it  on  that  basis !" 

"Faith  in  the  good  of  life  ain't  nothin'  more  or 
less'n  common  sense,  suh,"  spoke  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  "It's  justified  by  the  facts,  as  every  blessed 

66 


IN    THE    NINEVEH    BLADE    SANCTUM 

last  one  of  us  realizes  when  he  begins  to  see  the  fin- 
ish and  size  up  the  whole  thing.  And  enthusiasm 
ain't  nothin'  more  or  less'n  interest  in  the  game,  suh. 
Just  the  minute  mine's  all  gone,  I'll  be  willin'  to  lay 
down  my  cards  and  quit.  I  don't  know  nothin'  more 
triflin'  and  insignificant  than  a  bottle  o'  soda-pop  that 
won't  fizz,  suh." 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  the  two  old  friends 
parted.  Colonel  Todhunter  went  direct  to  the  office 
of  the  Nineveh  Blade  when  he  had  seen  Colonel 
Bill  Strickland  off  for  St.  Louis. 

Dick  Cantrill,  editor  of  the  Blade,  was  a  red- 
headed young  Democrat  who  cherished  old-fash- 
ioned principles.  There  was  no  thought  in  his  clean 
mind  of  devious  ways  to  make  politics  pecuniarily 
profitable.  One  could  no  more  have  "bought"  him 
than  one  could  have  "bought"  Patrick  Henry  or 
"Old  Hickory"  Jackson,  and  he  was  just  about  as 
fiery  and  fearless  as  those  two  earlier  Americans. 
Consequently,  many  politicians  spoke  of  him  as 
"that  stubborn  young  fool,  Dick  Cantrill  of  the 
Nineveh  Blade." 

As  Colonel  Todhunter  entered  the  Blade  office  a 
fuming  little  man  almost  extinguished  under  a  big 

67 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

and  very  rusty  silk  hat  was  terminating  what  had 
plainly  been  a  stormy  interview  with  Dick  Cantrill. 

"Hello,  Eph !"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  surprised. 
"It  ain't  often  I  find  you  hobnobbin'  with  Dick  Can- 
trill.  Go  right  ahead — don't  let  me  interrupt  you!" 

There  was  a  wicked  smile  on  young  Cantrill's 
mouth.  "We're  just  about  done  now,  Colonel,"  he 
interposed.  "Squire  Tucker  was  trying  to  induce  me 
to  support  Yancey  in  this  campaign,  but  I  had  to  de- 
cline. The  Blade's  for  Colonel  Strickland,  tooth  and 
nail,  now  that  he's  out  for  the  nomination." 

"And  you  and  the  Blade  are  both  durned  fools, 
sir — that's  all  I've  got  to  say !"  snapped  the  little  old 
man  under  the  big  hat.  "You  don't  know  which 
side  your  bread's  buttered  on,  Dick  Cantrill !" 

"Squire,"  said  Dick,  grinning  coolly,  "that  ain't 
the  only  viewpoint  from  which  I  look  at  the  matter. 
I  know  Colonel  Strickland  and  I  know  Steve  Yan- 
cey, and  I  know  Strickland's  the  best  man.  That 
makes  it  my  duty  to  support  him,  Squire !" 

"It's  to  your  interest  to  support  the  winner,  you 
young  idiot,  and  I  was  talking  to  you  for  your  own 
good!"  cried  old  Tucker.  "Stephen  K.  Yancey  has 
got  all  the  money  influence  behind  him  in  this  cam- 

68 


IN    THE    NINEVEH    BLADE    SANCTUM 

paign,  and  he'll  be  nominated  by  an  overwhelming 
majority.  You'll  put  up  a  mighty  poor  mouth  then, 
Dick  Cantrill,  begging  for  the  public  printing  in  the 
Blade — and  I'll  see  to  it  that  nothing  comes  your 
way!" 

"Go  right  ahead — crack  your  whip,  Squire!"  re- 
torted Dick  Cantrill  calmly.  "I  reckon  you  and  I 
have  different  ideas  about  politics,  but  there  needn't 
be  any  hard  feelings  unless  you  insist  on  it.  Anyway, 
we  might  as  well  get  the  whole  thing  threshed  out 
right  now,  as  long  as  we've  got  started." 

"I'll  see  if  I  can't  make  you  change  your  tune  be- 
fore I'm  done  with  you,  sir!" — and  old  Tucker's 
cold  little  eyes  narrowed  venomously.  "You're  talk- 
ing mighty  big  now,  Dick  Cantrill,  but  the  Yancey 
admlnistration'll  have  the  last  say,  my  young  game- 
cock!" 

"The  Yancey  administration  be  damned !"  replied 
Dick  Cantrill — and  then  he  laughed  and  settled  back 
in 'his  chair.  "But,  shucks,  Squire,  I  can't  talk  to  you 
like  I  could  to  a  younger  man!  Let's  go  easy. 
You're  for  Yancey,  and  I'm  for  Strickland,  and 
that's  all  there  is  to  it.  Every  man's  got  a  right  to 
his  own  opinion  in  a  free  country,  Squire." 

69 


COLONEL'   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Very  well,  sir,  very  well,  if  you  will  have  it  that 
way,"  retorted  old  Eph  Tucker.  "But  you're  back- 
ing a  loser,  Dick  Cantrill,  and  you're  going  to  suffer 
for  it.  Stephen  K.  Yancey  will  snow  Bill  Strickland 
under  so  deep  that  Bill's  friends'll  never  be  able  to 
dig  him  out,  sir !" 

Dick  Cantrill  stretched  his  arms  above  his  head. 
"Such  being  the  case,  Squire,"  he  replied,  "it  don't 
make  any  difference  to  you  Yancey  people  what  me 
and  the  Blade  see  fit  to  do,  so  you  can  just  keep 
your  shirt  on.  There  certainly  can't  be  any  occasion 
for  your  worrying  if  you've  got  us  beat  from  the 
jump." 

Old  Tucker  glared  at  the  amused  speaker. 

At  this  moment  a  fourth  figure  was  added  to  the 
group.  It  was  that  of  Lycurgus  Quivey,  the  school- 
master of  Nineveh,  a  gaunt  and  homely  representa- 
tive of  rustic  learning,  with  a  face  pathetic  in  its 
meek  wist  fulness. 

"Well,  well,  Lycurgus!"  cried  Dick  Cantrill  cor- 
dially, "I'm  glad  to  see  you!  Blest  if  I  hadn't  be- 
gun to  fear  the  Blade  wasn't  going  to  have  a  poem 
from  you  this  week.  And  that  would  never  do,  sir !" 

The  shy  schoolmaster  colored  at  the  greeting. 
70 


'You're  backing  a  loser,  Dick  Cantrill"    Page  70 


IN   THE    NINEVEH    BLADE    SANCTUM 

"It's  mighty  good  of  you  to  say  so,  Mr.  Cantrill," 
he  replied.  "I  reckon  my  poems  don't  amount  to  as 
much  as  that,  but  I  try  my  best  to  keep  'em  up  to  a 
high  standard.  The  world  don't  seem  to  care  much 
for  poetry  now,  though." 

"It's  always  been  that  way,  Lycurgus," — and  a 
whimsical  smile  came  on  Dick  Cantrill's  lips.  "The 
only  time  the  world  has  ever  loved  and  honored  its 
poets  is  after  they've  been  starved  to  death,  sir.  But 
what  have  you  got  now  ?" 

Lycurgus  Quivey  cleared  his  throat  nervously.  "I 
reckon  you'll  be  surprised,  Mr.  Cantrill,"  he  said  at 
last,  "but  the  truth  is,  I've  written  a  political  poem 
this  time.  I  know  Colonel  Strickland  so  well,  sir, 
and  I  like  him  so  much,  that  I  thought  I'd  write 
a  Strickland  campaign  song.  It  might  do  some  good 
at  mass-meetings  and  barbecues  and  such  things,  it 
seemed  to  me." 

Old  Eph  Tucker  snorted  and  glared  at  the  em- 
barrassed speaker.  Colonel  Todhunter  beamed  his 
approval.  Dick  Cantrill's  sense  of  humor  reveled  in 
the  situation. 

"Bully  for  you,  Lycurgus!"  he  exclaimed. 
"That's  just  fine !  You  bet  the  Blade  will  print  your 

71 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

campaign  song.  And,  by  George,  sir,  come  to  think 
of  it,  here's  Squire  Tucker  doing  his  level  best  to 
convert  me  to  the  Yancey  cause — I'll  just  read  your 
poem  to  him  and  see  if  it  won't  bring  him  over  to 
the  Strickland  side !" 

At  this  old  Eph  Tucker's  wrath  exploded. 

"You  won't  do  anything  of  the  sort!"  he  ejacu- 
lated. "You  and  your  fool  poets  can  go  it  alone  sup- 
porting Bill  Strickland.  It's  about  all  the  support 
he'll  get!" 

Then  he  turned  on  Lycurgus  Quivey.  "As  for 
you,  Mr.  School-teacher,"  he  snarled,  "if  writin' 
campaign  poetry  for  Bill  Strickland  is  the  best  you 
can  do  I'll  see  if  we  can't  get  you  more  time  for  it 
by  getting  you  out  of  the  Nineveh  school,  sir.  I  can 
do  it,  too.  I'm  chairman  of  the  school  board,  and 
I'll  h'ist  you  out  of  your  job  without  letting  any 
grass  grow  under  my  feet!" 

"No,  you  won't,  Squire,"  spoke  Dick  Cantrill 
quietly.  His  steady  eyes  held  those  of  old  Eph 
Tucker  with  a  distinct  menace. 

"Squire,"  Dick  continued,  "I  know  you  just  well 
enough  to  know  that  you're  willing  to  make  that 
threat  good.  Don't  you  dare  do  it,  sir.  This  man  is 

72 


IN    THE    NINEVEH    BLADE    SANCTUM 

a  worthy  man  in  his  place,  and,  outside  of  his  work- 
ing hours,  he's  privileged  to  write  poetry  to  whom- 
ever and  whatever  he  damn  pleases,  and  to  make  his 
own  choice  in  politics,  sir.  I  give  you  a  piece  of  ad- 
vice, Squire  Tucker.  Don't  you  lift  a  finger  to  get 
Lycurgus  Quivey  fired,  sir.  If  you  do,  it'll  be  the 
worse  for  you." 

Old  Eph  Tucker  glared  at  the  speaker.  "What'll 
you  do,  Dick  Cantrill?  That's  mighty  big  talk  to 
come  off  of  such  a  little  stomach,  sir.  What'll  you 
do  if  I  see  fit  to  teach  Lycurgus  Quivey  to  mind  his 
own  business  ?" 

"What'll  I  do?"  repeated  Dick  Cantrill,  his  eyes 
flashing.  "I'll  skin  you  alive,  Squire  Tucker,  that's 
what  I'll  do.  I'll  flay  you  from  head  to  heels,  sir,  and 
then  I'll  hang  your  hide  out  here  in  front  of  the 
Blade  office,  so  the  people  of  Nineveh  can  see  just 
what  a  miserable  skunk  you  are,  sir.  If  you're  going 
to  make  a  personal  fight  on  this  man  because  he 
backs  William  J.  Strickland  for  governor  of  Mis- 
souri, I'll  make  the  same  sort  of  a  fight  from  the 
Strickland  side  of  that  proposition.  And  you'll  be 
the  first  man  I'll  make  it  on,  Squire.  I've  got  the 
material  to  do  it  with,  and  you  know  it.  You  know 

73 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

your  own  record.  You  won't  last  a  minute  if  the 
Blade  goes  out  after  your  scalp,  Squire  Tucker. 
You'll  shrivel  up  quicker  than  a  dry  oak-leaf  in  hell, 
sir!" 

A  grim  silence  followed  these  words.  Then  old 
Eph  Tucker  spoke. 

"Well,"  he  said  slowly,  "it  strikes  me  you're  go- 
ing off  half-cocked,  Dick.  We've  both  lost  our  tem- 
pers a  little  and  probably  said  more'n  we  meant. 
Anyway  I  haven't  done  anything  against  Lycurgus 
Quivey  yet.  Maybe  you  better  just  keep  cool  and 
wait  till  I  do  before  you  start  in  to  tear  up  things  the 
way  you've  been  threatening,  sir." 

Dick  Cantrill  laughed.  "Sure,  Squire,"  he  replied. 
"I  can  wait  just  as  long  as  you  can,  I  reckon.  Bui 
not  a  minute  longer.  Keep  that  in  mind,  Squire. 
Not  a  minute  longer !" 

A  few  moments  later  Colonel  Todhunter  was 
alone  with  Dick  Cantrill.  "That  was  a  right  lively 
session  while  it  lasted,.  Dick,"  he  chuckled.  "You 
called  old  Eph  down  almighty  hard,  suh." 

"The  old  scoundrel!"  exclaimed  Dick.  Then  he 
added :  "I  don't  like  to  talk  to  a  man  of  his  age  that 
way,  Colonel,  but  that  cold-blooded  threat  against 

74 


IN    THE    NINEVEH    BLADE    SANCTUM 

Lycurgus  Quivey,  as  defenseless  a  man  as  ever  lived, 
sir,  flung  me  off  my  balance." 

"I  reckon  you  ain't  done  no  harm,  Dick,"  said 
Colonel  Todhunter.  Then  his  eyes  twinkled.  "Th' 
ain't  none  of  us  old  sinners,  I  reckon,  but  what's  all 
the  better  for  bein'  brought  to  a  conviction  of  sin 
every  now  and  then,  suh.  Anyway  it  worked  fine 
with  old  Eph."  At  this  Dick  Cantrill's  laugh  was 
good  to  hear. 

"Dick,"  asked  the  Colonel  then,  "are  we  gettin' 
any  news  of  how  the  other  side  regards  Bill  Strick- 
land's candidacy?" 

"Well,  Colonel,"  grinned  the  Blade's  editor, 
"there's  some  mighty  amusing  surface  indications. 
They  haven't  lost  any  time  springing  one  old  moss- 
grown  political  trick  on  us,  at  any  rate,  sir." 

"What  trick  is  that  ?"  quickly  asked  the  other. 

"Why,  sir,  they've  induced  Hamp  Judson,  of 
Carthage,  and  Judge  Sanford,  of  Bowling  Green, 
to  come  out,  both  of  'em,  in  the  race  for  the  nomina- 
tion. Each  of  'em  will  take  votes  away  from  Colonel 
Strickland.  It's  an  old  move,  but  a  shrewd  one, 
Colonel.  They  know  Yancey  will  get  the  solid  vote 
always  controlled  by  the  machine,  and  they're  work- 

75 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

ing  to  divide  the  rest  between  Strickland,  Judson 
and  Sanford,  sir." 

"I'll  be  eternally  condemned,  Dick,"  vociferated 
Colonel  Todhunter,  "if  I'd  ha'  believed  either  Hamp 
Judson  or  Jim  Sanford  would  lend  themselves  to 
such  a  game,  suh.  I  hate  to  think  it  of  'em  now,  even 
on  your  say-so." 

"It  isn't  my  say-so,  Colonel;  it's  the  cold  facts," 
replied  Dick  Cantrill.  "Judson  and  Sanford  both 
entered  the  race  within  twenty-four  hours  after 
Colonel  Strickland  announced  his  candidacy  down 
there  in  St.  Louis.  They  know  they  haven't  got  the 
ghost  of  a  show  for  the  nomination.  All  they're 
working  for  is  to  get  solid  with  the  old  Jefferson 
City  ring  by  helping  to  defeat  Colonel  Strickland. 
I'd  be  willing  to  bet  that  their  campaign  expenses, 
down  to  the  last  dollar  on  the  last  day,  will  be  paid 
by  Yancey's  campaign  managers,  sir." 

Colonel  Todhunter  looked  at  the  speaker  indig- 
nantly. "And  you're  a-settin'  there  ca'mly,  suh," 
he  inquired,  "knowin'  these  things  and  not  movin'  a 
finger  to  expose  their  game?" 

"Colonel,"  replied  Dick  Cantrill,  laughter  in  his 
eyes,  "don't  you  be  uneasy.  I've  got  my  end  of  the 

76 


IN    THE    NINEVEH    BLADE    SANCTUM 

fight  started.  At  the  proper  moment,  and  that  mo- 
ment isn't  far  off,  you'll  see  Hamp  Judson  and 
Judge  Sanford  jumping  and  howling  at  every  crack 
of  the  Blade's  whip,  sir.  I'll  make  'em  the  two  sick- 
est men  in  Missouri  before  I'm  through  with  'em!" 

"That  sounds  like  business!"  cried  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  much  relieved.  "Give  it  to  'em  good  and 
hard,  Dick.  Th'  ain't  nothin'  on  God's  green  foot- 
stool that  I  hate  worse'n  a  renegade  that  goes  back 
on  a  friend  when  his  help's  most  needed.  And  I 
don't  know  whether  it's  the  treachery  of  it  that  I 
hate  most  or  the  yellow  streak  that  always  goes  with 
it,  suh!" 

"Colonel,"  said  Dick  Cantrill,  "don't  you  worry 
about  their  not  getting  what's  coming  to  them. 
They'll  get  it  good  and  plenty." 

A  little  later,  crossing  the  town  square,  Colonel 
Todhunter  held  counsel  with  himself. 

"Well,  suh,"  he  said,  "the  owner  of  a  newspaper 
ought  to  flop  down  on  his  marrowbones  every  night 
and  pray  'Our  Father,  deliver  us  from  temptation !' 
He  can  help  or  hurt  crooked  men  more'n  any  other 
one  influence,  and  they  know  it.  He  sure  must  have 
a  hard  fight  to  keep  straight — the  longer  he  stays 

77 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

virtuous,  the  more  they're  willin'  to  pay  for  him. 
I'm  glad  I  ain't  in  the  business,  suh — old  Satan's  got 
grip-holds  enough  on  me  as  it  is !" 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  STRICKLAND-TUCKER   FEUD   HAS  ITS  OMINOUS 
BEGINNING 

THE  colonel  was  still  deep  in  philosophic  mus- 
ings, not  more  than  half-way  across  the  town 
square,  when  he  was  interrupted  by  a  genial  hail. 

"Howdy,  Kunn'l  Todhunter;  howdy,  suh!  You 
sho'ly  ain't  gwine  walk  right  p'intedly  pas'  me 
'thout  sayin'  howdy  to  you'  ole  A'nt  Mirandy,  is  you, 
suh?" 

The  speaker  was  a  fat,  gray-wooled  black  wom- 
an, festively  arrayed  in  a  gaudy  calico  dress,  a 
bandanna  handkerchief  knotted  around  her  head 
like  a  turban,  a  big  market-basket  on  her  arm.  She 
emphasized  her  greeting  by  lifting  her  disengaged 
hand  with  an  almost  ecstatic  gesture. 

"Well,  well,  Aunt  Mirandy!"  returned  the  Colo- 
nel. "I  ain't  seen  you  for  so  long  that  I  reckon  I 
wouldn't  ha'  known  you  anyway — you're  lookin'  so 
peart  and  gaily.  How  are  you,  Mirandy,  and  how's 
that  no-'count  husband  of  your'n  ?" 

The  ancient  negress  cackled  joyously.  "I  tell  you 
79 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

de  gospel  trufe,  Kunn'l  Todhunter,  and  I  sho'  ain't 
tellin'  you  no  lies — dat-ar  wufless  ole  man  o'  mine 
am  sutt'nly  mighty  triflin',  suh.  He  gittin'  wuss'n 
wuss  ever'  day,  too,  Kunn'l.  Whut  you  reckon  done 
happ'n  to  him  now,  suh  ?  Well,  I  jes'  gwine  tell  you 
— dat  ole  Jed  been  out  fishin'  an'  come  traipsin'  back 
home  wid  de  roomatis',  suh,  an'  layin'  flat  on  he 
back  gruntin'  an'  groanin'  lak  he  gwine  die  ever' 
minit,  suh !  I  'clar  to  goodness,  Kunn'l  Todhunter, 
dat  nigger  gwine  drive  me  'stracted  yit,  suh !" 

"You're  too  easy  on  him,  Mirandy;  that's  the 
trouble!"  laughed  the  Colonel.  "You  ought  to  take 
a  broomstick  and  wallop  him  till  he  ain't  too  proud 
to  work,  the  old  rascal !  Quit  cookin'  such  good  vit- 
tles  for  him,  Mirandy,  and  let  him  go  hungry  for  a 
while!" 

Old  Mirandy  rolled  her  eyes  heavenward. 
"Kunn'l  Todhunter,"  she  gurgled,  "I  jes'  nachully 
kain't  do  dat,  suh.  'Tain't  dat  ole  Jed  don't  'serve 
it,  kase  he  do,  but  he  sho'  kin  put  up  sich  a  po'  mouf, 
suh!  He's  de  mos'  mizzabul  nigger  on  a  em'ty 
stummuck,  suh,-  dat  I  ain't  got  de  heart  to  'fuse  him 
when  he  say  he  hungry.  Dass  de  fac',  Kunn'l — I 
jes'  ain't  got  de  heart,  suh." 

80 


THE    STRICKLAND-TUCKER    FEUD 

"Well,  but,  good  Lord,  Mirandy,  you  must  be  put 
to  it  mighty  hard  to  'tend  to  your  washin'  and  look 
after  that  triflin'  old  scoundrel  at  the  same  time!" 

"I  sho'  is,  Kunn'l — I  ain't  nebber  had  no  baby 
what's  mo'  trubble'n  dat-ar  old  Jed !  Whuss  I  doin' 
now,  suh,  but  rubbin'  dat  ole  fool's  j'ints  wid  lini- 
ment whilst  I  oughter  be  right  at  my  wash-tub  all 
my  time,  suh?  I  tell  you,  suh,  I  got  to  scrabble  fo' 
a  libbin'  wuss'n  a  scratchin'  hen  dese-heah  days, 
suh!" 

"Where  are  you  livin'  now,  Mirandy  ?" 

"Whah  I  libbin'?  Whah  I  libbin'?  Well,  now, 
suh,  I  mos'  shame  fo'  to  tell  you,  suh,  but  me'n  ole 
Jed  is  jes'  a-squattin'  down  yander  in  a  'serted  cabin 
whut  wuz  em'ty  on  de  Black  Bottoms  road,  suh, 
'twell  me'n  him  jes'  sorter  moved  into  it,  suh.  Yass, 
suh,  hit's  ercross  f'um  whah  ole  Mister  Rafe  Dog- 
gett  an'  he  young  granddaughter,  Miss  Lottie-May, 
libbin',  suh.  An'  hit  sho'  am  a  lonesome  place — ef 
hit  wan't  fo'  some  skylarkin'  young  man  a-comin' 
out  f'um  Nineveh  to  cote  Miss  Lottie-May  when  her 
ole  granddaddy  ain't  home,  I  tell  you  p'intedly, 
Kunn'l  Todhunter,  hit'd  be  jes'  lak  a  graveyard, 
suh!" 

81 


COLONEL'   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"I  reckon  so,"  said  the  Colonel.  "And  who  are 
the  young  scamps  that  come  out  to  see  Miss  Lottie- 
May,  Mirandy?" 

"Lawd  bless  you,  suh,  dey's  two  three  uv  'em, 
suh — Mister  Stam  Tucker's  one,  an'  Miss  Lottie- 
May  sho'  am  a  pow'ful  han'some  young  g'yel,  suh. 
An'  her  ole  granddad,  he  sutt'nly  do  'pear  to  be 
mighty  skeered  'case  she  so  gay  an'  flirtatious-like, 
suh!" 

"Well,  Mirandy,  I  reckon  that's  only  natural  for 
a  pretty  girl.  I  saw  Lottie-May  talkin'  to  young 
Tom  Strickland  at  the  picnic  down  at  Indian 
Springs  yistiddy — you  ain't  never  seen  Tom  callin' 
on  her  out  there,  have  you?" 

"No,  suh,  not  to  reckernize  him,  Kunn'l  Todhun- 
ter,  but  dat  ain't  sayin'  he  ain't  been  dar  whilst  I 
been  away  so  much  o'  de  time,  Kunn'l.  Huccome 
young  Mister  Tom  Strickland  talkin'  to  anybody 
but  Miss  Mary  Todhunter,  yo'  own  daughter,  suh? 
Ain't  he  jes'  p'intedly  head  over  heels  in  lub  wid 
Miss  Mary,  suh?" 

"He  ain't  tellin'  me  so,  Mirandy,"  laughed  the 
Colonel.  "But  I  reckon  Lottie-May  ain't  no  more  to 

82 


THE    STRICKLAND-TUCKER    FEUD 

him  than  any  other  of  a  dozen  pretty  girls — I  was 
just  wonderin',  that's  all." 

Then  he  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  drew  out  a 
bill. 

"Here,  Mirandy,"  he  said.  "I  wouldn't  be  sur- 
prised but  what  this  might  come  in  handy  while 
you're  a-wrastlin'  with  that  old  scamp  Jed  and  his 
rheumatism.  And  if  you'll  stop  by  and  see  Mrs. 
Todhunter  next  time  you  come  to  town,  I'll  ask  her 
if  she  can't  give  you  a  basketful  of  vittles  she  don't 
need." 

"Glory  hallelooyah !"  cried  old  Mirandy.  "Dat- 
ar  money  looks  big  as  de  side  of  a  house  to  me,  suh 
— it  sho'  do!  Yass,  suh,  an'  I  gwine  drop  by  you- 
all's  house,  too,  suh.  An'  I  ain't  nebber  gwine  fer- 
git  you  fo'  it,  Kunn'l;  I  sho'  ain't.  Some  o'  dese 
bright  days  I  gwine  pay  you  back  more'n  dat-ar 
money;  you  see  if  I  don't,  suh!"  Sudden  tears  had 
come  into  the  brave  old  woman's  eyes. 

"That's  all  right,  Mirandy,"  said  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  "If  you  want  to  tickle  me  the  most,  you 
just  wallop  the  stuffin'  out  of  old  Jed  the  first  good 
chance  you  get !" 

83 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

An  amused  guffaw  from  Mirandy  greeted  this  re- 
quest, and  then,  pouring  out  a  flood  of  thanks,  she 
hobbled  happily  away. 

Colonel  Todhunter  looked  after  her  almost  sadly. 
"Them  old  niggers,"  he  said.  "I  love  'em  just  like 
they  was  kin  to  me,  and  they  love  us,  too.  But  the 
new  breed — they  hate  us,  and  I  ain't  got  no  more 
use  for  'em  than  I  have  for  a  snake.  It's  curious, 
and  it's  somethin*  of  a  tragedy,  too,  suh.  I'll  be 
dadblamed  if  I  know  what's  goin'  to  come  of  it  all, 
some  day !" 

Half  an  hour  later,  as  Colonel  Todhunter  emerged 
from  the  law  office  of  Judge  Boiling,  he  heard  a  sud- 
den hurrying  of  footsteps  and  Sim  Birdsong  joined 
him,  breathless  and  much  perturbed. 

"What's  on  your  mind  now,  Sim?"  asked  the 
Colonel.  "  'Tain't  often  you  go  gallopin'  aroun' 
with  your  tongue  hangin'  out  o'  your  mouth  like  a 
young  dog's  in  his  first  rabbit  chase.  What's  the 
trouble?" 

"I  was  jes'  startin'  out  to  look  you  up,  Colonel," 
replied  Sim.  "There's  trouble  enough,  suh.  Tom 
Strickland's  got  to  drinkin'  and  picked  a  quarrel 
with  Stam  Tucker  in  the  hotel  bar-room,  and  you 

84 


THE    STRICKLAND-TUCKER   FEUD 

better  come   quick,   suh,    and   prevent   its   bein'   a 
mighty  serious  difficulty." 

"I  ain't  got  no  patience  with  you  young  fellows 
here  in  Nineveh,  Sim  Birdsong,"  commented  the 
Colonel.  "When  Tom  Strickland  gets  two  or  three 
drinks  under  his  belt  and  wants  to  pick  a  fuss,  why 
don't  some  of  you  turn  in  and  lick  the  stuffin'  out'n 
him?  That's  one  of  the  best  cures  for  the  whisky- 
quarrelin'  habit  that  ever  was  invented,  suh." 

The  Colonel  chuckled  as  he  spoke.  "The  most' 
quarrelsome  man  in  his  cups  I  ever  knew,  Sim,  was 
old  Bob  Prewitt,  in  my  regiment  durin'  the  late  un- 
pleasantness, and  he  was  cured  just  that  way,  suh. 
Sam  Fossbrooke  made  a  point  of  campin'  on  Bob's 
trail  ever'  time  Bob  got  to  naggin'  any  o'  the  other 
fellows,  and  Sam'd  thrash  Bob  till  his  own  mother 
wouldn't  ha'  known  him,  suh.  And,  suh,  before 
the  war  was  over,  I'll  be  double  hamstrung  if  Bob 
Prewitt  wasn't  a  teetotaler,  suh — and  he  never  got 
fightin'  drunk  after  the  war,  neither,  till  he'd  put 
two  whole  counties  between  him  and  Sam  Foss- 
brooke. Some  of  you  boys  ought  to  try  that  plan 
on  Tom  Strickland,  Sim." 

"Colonel,"  answered  Sim  solemnly,  "it's  a  sort  o' 

85 


COLONEL"   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

curse  on  the  Stricklands,  that  fierce  temper  ol 
their'n  when  they  get  under  the  influence  of  licker, 
suh.  You  mustn't  forget  that  Tom's  own  uncle  killed 
his  best  friend,  Lawrence  Tolliver,  durin'  a  spree, 
and  then  drank  himself  to  death  afterwards,  tryin' 
to  forget  it,  suh.  It's  a  curse,  suh,  that's  what  it 
is!" 

"It  ain't  no  curse  that  can't  be  lifted  easy  as  rais- 
in' your  little  finger,  Sim  Birdsong,"  said  the  Colo- 
nel. "All  in  the  world  Tom  Strickland's  got  to  do  is 
to  leave  whisky  alone — he  ain't  a  hard  drinker  now, 
and  maybe  he  never  will  be,  but  he's  got  to  leave  it 
alone  altogether.  It  don't  agree  with  him.  The 
Todhunters  has  got  that  same  kind  of  a  curse  in 
their  family,  only  it's  cucumbers  'stead  of  whisky. 
Th'  ain't  none  of  us  Todhunters  can  eat  cucumbers 
without  bein'  doubled  up  with  cramp  colic.  Well, 
suh,  I  lifted  that  curse  by  cuttin'  cucumbers  out  o' 
my  list  of  vittles  same  as  if  such  a  thing  never 
growed,  and  Tom  Strickland  or  any  other  man  can 
do  the  same  thing  with  whisky,  suh." 

Then  the  Colonel  tapped  Sim  on  the  shoulder. 
"And  let  me  tell  you  one  thing,  my  boy,"  he  con- 
tinued. "All  this-here  talk  about  the  turrible  hard 

86 


THE    STRICKLAND-TUCKER    FEUD 

fight  necessary  to  break  off  from  a  bad  habit  makes 
me  tired,  suh.  A  man  don't  never  have  to  fight  but 
one  day's  fight  at  a  time,  and  there's  always  a  night's 
rest  comin'  in  between  if  he  don't  lay  awake  pity  in' 
himself,  suh.  I  know  what  I'm  a-talkin'  about.  It 
ain't  but  a  twelve  hours'  fight  no  time,  and  a  man 
who  can't  fight  that  long  is  a  mighty  measly  speci- 
men of  a  man,  suh !" 

"That's  all  very  well,  Colonel,"  spoke  Sim  un- 
easily, "but  Tom  has  egged  Stam  Tucker  on  till 
Stam's  hurried  out  o'  the  bar-room,  white  in  the 
face,  hollerin'  over  his  shoulder  that  he'll  be  back 
in  a  minute — and  you  know  just  what  that  means, 
suh!" 

Colonel  Todhunter's  face  grew  instantly  grave. 
"He's  gone  to  get  his  shootin'-iron — the  damned  lit- 
tle fool!"  he  exclaimed.  "Tell  me,  Sim — is  Tom 
Strickland  armed?" 

"I  don't  think  he  is,  suh,  but  he's  a-waitin'  for 
Stam  Tucker  in  that-there  bar-room,  and  he's  just 
feelin'  reckless  enough  to  give  Stam  every  chance 
in  the  world  for  shootin'  him  after  he  himself  picked 
the  fuss  and  forced  the  personal  difficulty,  Colonel." 

"You  come  along  with  me,  Sim !"  said  the  Colonel. 
87 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Why  the  blue  blazes  and  Sam  Hill  didn't  you  tell 
me  all  this  at  the  start,  suh?" 

Swiftly  they  crossed  the  town  square  and  entered 
the  bar-room  of  the  Nineveh  Hotel.  Tom  Strickland, 
alone  now  but  for  the  bartender,  stood  with  one  el- 
bow resting  on  the  bar. 

"Howdy,  Colonel!"  he  cried.  "You  and  Sim  are 
just  in  time  to  join  me  in  a  drink,  sir.  What'll  you 
have?" 

"Tom,"  replied  the  Colonel,  "ordinarily  I'd  be  glad 
to  accept  your  invitation,  but  not  to-day,  my  bey.  I 
want  you  to  go  home,  Tom." 

Young  Strickland  smiled.  "I'm  sorry  to  disoblige 
you,  Colonel,"  he  replied,  "but  I  don't  feel  like  go- 
ing home  right  away." 

"You've  got  to  go,  Tom,"  replied  the  Colonel. 

"Well,  now,  sir,"  suggested  the  other,  "that's 
fairly  open  to  argument,  in  spite  of  your  being  so 
positive  about  it.  I've  got  a  special  reason  for  stay- 
ing, Colonel." 

"Yes,  I  know,  Tom.  You're  waitin'  to  have  a  per- 
sonal difficulty  with  Stam  Tucker,  suh." 

Tom  Strickland  laughed.  "You've  called  the  turn, 
sir!  And,  under  the  circumstances,  you'll  have  to 

88 


THE    STRICKLAND-TUCKER    FEUD 

agree  yourself  that  I  can't  go  now — not  for  a  few 
minutes,  anyway." 

"I  don't  agree  to  no  such  thing,  you  blamed  young 
fool!"  ejaculated  Colonel  Todhunter.  "Do  you 
reckon  I'm  a-goin'  to  let  you  and  Stam  Tucker  shoot 
each  other  full  o'  holes,  or  let  you  wait,  unarmed, 
for  him  to  get  a  crack  at  you,  just  because  you've 
seen  fit  to  come  into  town  and  begin  drinkin',  suh  ?" 

"We're  both  free  white  and  twenty-one,  Colonel," 
said  Tom  Strickland.  "How  are  you  goin'  to  pre- 
vent it?" 

At  this  Colonel  Todhunter  lost  his  temper.  "I'll 
prevent  it  by  thrashin'  you  within  an  inch  of  your 
life,  suh,  if  you  don't  turn  right  around  and  get  out 
o'  this-here  bar-room — that's  how!"  he  announced 
resolutely.  "I  ain't  a-goin'  to  stand  no  foolishness, 
Tom!" 

"That  ain't  fair,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  protested 
Tom  Strickland.  "You're  Miss  Mary's  father,  and 
you're  my  father's  oldest  and  best  friend,  sir.  I 
wouldn't  lift  my  hand  against  you  for  the  world — 
but  I've  got  to  wait  here  till  Stam  Tucker  gets  back !" 

"Tom,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "you've  either 
got  to  go  home  right  now,  suh,  or  thrash  me,  or  take 

89 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

the  best  thrashin'  from  me  you  ever  got  in  all  your 
life,  suh!" 

Tom  Strickland  looked  into  Colonel  Todhunter's 
eyes.  They  shone  with  the  light  of  righteous  battle. 
It  was  a  preposterous  situation.  The  humor  of  it 
suddenly  struck  the  younger  man  and  he  laughed 
outright.  Then,  suddenly,  looking  beyond  Colonel 
Todhunter,  his  own  eyes  hardened  into  a  dangerous 
anger. 

"It's  too  late,  Colonel!"  he  exclaimed  exultantly. 
"Here  comes  the  very  man  we're  talking  about !" 

As  he  spoke,  Stamford  Tucker  entered  the  bar- 
room, advancing  directly  toward  him. 

"I  reckon  you  still  insist  on  a  personal  difficulty 
with  me,  Tom  Strickland?"  he  asked.  "You  ain't 
changed  your  mind  none  since  the  last  few  minutes  ?" 

"I  don't  change  my  mind  that  easy,"  replied  Tom 
Strickland,  smiling.  "Especially  when  a  damned  lit- 
tle upstart  like  you  gets  to  talking  too  freely  about 
my  father.  You've  got  to  stop  it  or  else  make  up 
you  mind  to  take  the  consequences." 

"It  ain't  what  I've  said  about  your  father  that's 
rubbing  you  the  wrong  way,"  retorted  Stam  Tucker. 
"It's  because  you've  found  out  that  I'm  standin'  too 

90 


THE    STRICKLAND-TUCKER    FEUD 

good  a  chance  with  Miss  Mary  Todhunter  to  suit 
you—" 

Tom  Strickland  sprang  at  the  speaker.  As  he  did 
so,  Stam  Tucker  whipped  out  a  pistol.  It  was  quickly 
done,  but  not  quick  enough  to  give  an  opportunity 
to  fire  before  the  other  struck.  Tom's  fist  smashed 
into  his  face  and  felled  him  to  the  floor.  The  pistol 
flew  ten  feet  away. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence. 

"Get  up,"  said  Tom.  "And  come  at  me  like  a 
man.  I'll  thrash  you  within  an  inch  of  your  life!" 

Stam  Tucker  staggered  to  his  feet,  wiping  the 
blood  from  his  face.  But  he  made  no  move  toward 
the  man  who  had  struck  him. 

Tom  Strickland  stepped  coolly  to  where  the  pis- 
tol lay,  picked  it  up  deliberately  and  put  it  into  his 
own  pocket. 

"I'll  get  even  with  you  for  this,  Strickland !"  cried 
young  Tucker.  "FH  even  up  things  before  I'm  done 
with  you !" 

"You'll  never  have  a  better  time  than  right  now," 
replied  Tom.  "But  if  you  ain't  in  the  humor,  I'll 
leave  your  pistol  with  the  bartender  here  in  a  little 
while  and  you  can  get  it  later.  But  I  give  you  fair 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

warning,  Stam  Tucker.  The  next  time  you  make  a 
move  for  a  weapon,  you're  going  to  get  badly  hurt. 
I'll  be  ready  for  you  since  you  insist  on  it." 

Stam  Tucker  moved  toward  the  door.  His  little 
eyes  were  venomous  with  hate. 

"I'll  get  even  with  you!"  he  repeated.  "You'll 
suffer  for  this  yet !"  And  then  he  disappeared. 

"You've  played  the  wild  on  your  watch,  Tom," 
said  Colonel  Todhunter  sternly.  "  This  ain't  no  time 
for  you  to  be  pickin'  fights  with  old  Eph  Tucker's 
son.  It  don't  look  right,  and  it  won't  help  your 
father  none  in  his  political  fight,  either." 

"I  didn't  bring  it  on,  Colonel,"  replied  Tom 
Strickland.  "Stamford  Tucker's  seen  fit  to  say 
things  about  my  father  that  no  man  can  say  and  not 
get  a  licking  from  me,  if  I'm  man  enough  to  lick 
him.  That's  all  there  is  to  it,  sir." 

To  save  his  life,  Colonel  Todhunter  could  not 
continue  his  rebuke.  But  he  managed  to  part  from 
Tom  Strickland  with  something  like  an  expression 
of  disapproval  on  his  countenance. 

"I  reckon  I  ain't  cut  out  to  preach  to  other  people 
what  they  should  do  and  what  they  shouldn't,"  he 
confessed  to  himself  later.  "I  ought  to  have  given 

92 


THE    STRICKLAND-TUCKER    FEUD 

that  blamed  young  fool  a  lecture  as  long  as  my  arm, 
but  it  just  wasn't  in  me  to  do  it  under  the  circum- 
stances. And  that's  wrong,  because  the  only  good 
excuse  an  old  man's  got  for  livin'  is  to  sorter  act  as 
a  guide-post  to  keep  young  men  from  followin'  the 
roads  that  lead  to  trouble.  Bein'  mighty  little  good 
in  that  line  myself,  I'm  a-goin'  to  unload  my  respon- 
sibility on  old  Bill  Strickland  and  let  him  straighten 
Tom  out  his  own  way,  suh.  And  then  I'll  ask  the 
old  Marster  up  above  to  make  me  better  fitt'n  for  my 
duty  than  I  seem  to  be  at  this  precise  moment,  suh, 
judgin'  from  the  way  I  weakened  on  Tom!" 


93 


CHAPTER  VII 

SIM  BIRDSONG  RESOLVES  UPON  PLAYING  YOUNG 
LOCHINVAR 

EVER  since  Sim  Birdsong's  return  from  blood- 
less service  in  the  war  with  Spain,  Colonel 
Todhunter  had  found  delight  in  badgering  that 
young  hero  with  comments  upon  his  military  career. 
The  Colonel  liked  Sim  tremendously — and  enjoyed 
him  even  more. 

On  a  certain  morning  before  his  departure  for  St. 
Louis  in  the  campaign  interests  of  Colonel  Bill 
Strickland,  Colonel  Todhunter's  lips  twitched  with 
a  wicked  smile  when  Sim  Birdsong  came  to  him 
with  the  announcement  that  the  local  camp  of  Sons 
of  Confederate  Veterans  had  completed  its  plans 
for  a  grand  reception  and  ball  at  the  Nineveh  Hotel, 
the  subscription  fees  for  admission  and  refresh- 
ments, paid  by  the  Sons  and  other  bachelors  of  the 
town's  society,  to  be  for  the  benefit  of  the  Confeder- 
ate Soldiers'  Home,  the  beneficiary  of  the  Daugh- 
ters' picnic  of  an  earlier  date. 

94 


SIM    BIRDSONG'S    RESOLVE 

"I'll  just  be  jim-swizzled,  Sim,"  said  the  Colonel, 
"if  I  can  see  what  business  you've  got  with  the  Sons 
o'  Veterans  now,  anyway.  It's  true,  your  father 
fought  on  our  side,  and  I  used  to  think  you  was 
proud  of  it,  but  now,  you  blamed  little  renegade, 
you've  switched  over  from  the  gray  to  the  blue,  and 
if  I  had  any  say-so  in  the  matter  I'd  have  you  fired 
out  of  the  Sons  so  quick  it'd  make  your  head  swim. 
I  ain't  got  no  use  for  a  turncoat,  Sim  Birdsong !" 

"Colonel,"  replied  Sim  indignantly,  a  quick  flash 
springing  into  his  freckled  face,  "if  any  other  man 
in  this  world  called  me  a  turncoat,  I'd  knock  him 
down,  suh!" 

"Maybe  you  would,  Sim,  maybe  you  would," 
spoke  the  Colonel.  "Th'  ain't  never  no  tellin'  what  a 
man'll  do,  and  it  depends  a  good  deal  on  the  size  of 
the  other  fellow,  but  even  if  you  did  knock  him 
down,  that  wouldn't  alter  the  facts  in  the  case.  And 
that  ain't  all,  suh.  You  not  only  turned  your  coat 
from  gray  to  blue,  Sim  Birdsong,  but  you  was  so 
dog-gone  proud  of  the  blue  coat  that  you  went  and 
had  yourself  photographed  in  it  in  about  a  million 
different  terrifyin'  attitudes,  more  or  less.  And  that 
sticks  in  my  craw  mightily,  I  can  tell  you,  suh !" 

95 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

For  a  moment  Sim  Birdsong  gazed  at  Colonel 
Todhttnter  in  mute  protest.  Then  a  sudden  grin 
came  upon  his  lips. 

"That's  all  right,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  said. 
"And  I'm  willin'  to  abide  by  your  argument  if  you'll 
do  the  same,  suh.  Because,  accordin'  to  your  own 
logic,  Colonel,  I'm  a  good  deal  less  of  a  turncoat'n 
you  are  yourself,  suh!" 

"You  impudent  little  simlin'-headed  runt,  you!" 
cried  the  Colonel.  "If  you  stand  up  there  and  call 
me  a  turncoat,  you  little  spindle-shanked  imitation 
soldier,  I'll  break  your  neck  for  you !" 

"It's  a  mighty  poor  rule  that  won't  work  both 
ways,  Colonel,"  replied  Sim  calmly.  "And  facts  is 
facts  and  logic  is  logic.  Ain't  I  heard  you  more'n  a 
thousand  times  braggin'  that  your  great-grandfather 
fought  in  the  Revolutionary  War,  suh?" 

"You've  heard  me  say  that — yes,  suh,  certainly." 

"And  that  your  grandfather  fought  in  the  War  of 
1812?" 

"Yes,  suh,  that's  true,  too." 

"And  that  your  own  father  fought  in  the  Mexican 
War?" 

"He  did,  suh — under  old  Zachary  Taylor !" 
96 


SIM    BIRDSONG'S    RESOLVE 

"Well,  Colonel,  accordin'  to  them  facts,  and  ac- 
cordin'  to  your  own  argument,  then,  the  only  differ- 
ence between  you'n  me  on  this  turncoat  proposition 
is  that  you  turned  your  coat  from  blue  to  gray  and 
I've  turned  mine  back  from  gray  to  blue — that's  all, 
sun!" 

Colonel  Todhunter's  grizzled  face  darkened. 
"Sim,"  he  said  sternly,  "I  never  expected  that  I'd 
live  to  hear  the  son  of  a  confederate  soldier  make 
such  an  argument,  suh." 

"I  ain't  makin'  the  argument,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter!"  exclaimed  Sim  Birdsong  quickly.  "The 
only  thing  I'm  doin'  is  followin'  out  your  own  ar- 
gument to  prove  that  it  ain't  fair  to  me,  suh.  By 
rights,  your  turncoat  charge  don't  stick  to  me,  Colo- 
nel, and  you  know  it,  and  mine  don't  stick  to  you, 
and  I  know  it,  but  one's  just  as  plausible  as  the  other 
on  the  surface,  suh.  And  it  hurts,  suh,  to  have  that 
word  throw'd  around  promiscous — I'd  lick  the  man 
that  used  it  to  you,  Colonel  Todhunter,  if  it  was  the 
last  thing  I  done  in  this  world !" 

There  was  a  little  pause,  then  Sim  laughed.  "Be- 
sides, suh,"  he  continued,  "they  ain't  neither  one  of 
us  consistent.  I  can't  keep  from  hollerin'  when  I 

97 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

hear  Dixie,  not  to  save  my  life,  and  I  heard  you 
holler  for  Yankee  Doodle  to  beat  the  band,  suh, 
the  day  us  Spanish  War  volunteers  took  the  train 
for  Chickamauga.  And  not  only  that,  suh.  You 
yourself  made  us  a  rip-snortin'  speech  that  very  day, 
sayin'  how  proud  you  felt  when  we  answered  the 
president's  call,  and  that  we  was  goin'  out  to  fight 
under  the  best  flag  in  the  world,  suh.  And  you  meant 
every  word  you  said,  Colonel !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  chuckled.  "You  infernal 
young  scamp !  Anyway,  I  done  some  fightin'  in  my 
case  to  prove  I  was  in  earnest,  and  that's  more'n 
you  can  say,  suh.  Why,  Sim  Birdsong,  you  wouldn't 
know  a  Spanish  soldier  if  he  come  right  up  to  you 
this  minute  and  stuck  his  nose  in  your  face!  You 
never  got  in  a  thousand  miles  of  one  of  'em,  for  all 
your  'heppin'  and  'hay-foot'  and  'straw-foot'  drillin', 
and  you  know  it,  you  little  fo'-card  flusher,  you !" 

Now  it  was  Sim's  face  that  showed  the  hurt. 
Colonel  Todhunter  put  a  swift  hand  on  his  shoul- 
der. "That's  all  right,  Sim,"  he  spoke  heartily.  "I 
was  just  gettin'  back  at  you  for  makin'  fun  of  me. 
It  wa'n't  your  fault.  You  tried  your  level  best  to  get 
at  the  Spaniards,  and  if  Uncle  Sam  had  needed  you 

98 


SIM    BIRDSONG'S    RESOLVE 

he  knew  right  where  he  could  put  his  hands  on  you. 
And  about  this  blue  and  gray  business — the  old  sol- 
diers on  both  sides  fought  it  out  back  there  in  the 
sixties,  and  they  ain't  got  no  quarrel  now.  A  good 
fight  ought  to  make  a  good  peace  afterward,  is  the 
way  they  look  at  it.  The  only  men  that's  still  a-quar- 
relin'  is  the  men  that  didn't  wear  either  the  blue  or 
the  gray  when  they  was  any  fightin'  to  be  done — and 
they  didn't  get  mad  till  the  war  was  all  over,  suh !" 

"You're  shoutin'  now,  Colonel,"  agreed  Sim,  to 
whose  homely  countenance  its  customary  expression 
of  honest  good-nature  had  returned  with  the  touch 
of  the  older  man's  hand  on  his  shoulder.  "And  it's 
true,  as  you  say,  that  us  Spanish  War  fellows  didn't 
see  any  real  fightin',  but  even  the  rough-and-tumble 
fist  fights  a  boy  has  to  run  into  at  school  taught  me 
that  a  good  set-to  is  the  best  way  in  the  world  to  put 
a  stop  to  quarrelin'.  It  just  wipes  the  whole  thing 
off  the  map — and  I  reckon  that's  precisely  what  the 
Civil  War  done  for  the  men  that  really  fought  it, 
suh." 

Colonel  Todhunter  nodded  emphatically.  A  mo- 
ment of  silence  intervened.  Then,  suddenly,  a  look 
of  apprehension  crept  into  Sim  Birdsong's  face. 

99 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Colonel,"  he  spoke,  a  somewhat  sheepish  grin  on 
his  lips,  "talkin'  about  fightin'  and  bein'  skeered 
and  all  that,  I  got  to  tell  you,  suh,  that  I'm  facin'  a 
proposition  in  that  line  right  now  that's  got  any  or- 
dinary war  skinned  a  mile,  suh." 

"What's  the  difficulty,  Sim?"  asked  the  Colonel  in- 
terestedly. 

"Why,  suh,  it's  Miss  Angelica  Exall's  ma,  that's 
what  it  is,  suh.  Things  is  takin'  a  mighty  serious 
shape,  Colonel  Todhunter.  That  dod-rotted  old  lady 
is  a-movin'  Heaven  and  earth  to  make  a  match  be- 
tween Miss  Angelica  and  Politer  Scruggs,  suh,  for 
the  simple  reason  that  he  owns  a  good  farm  an's  got 
a  few  thousand  dollars  in  bank,  and  she  wants  Miss 
Angelica  to  sell  herself  for  them  things,  suh.  And 
her  first  move  to'ards  catchin'  Pohter  Scruggs,  Colo- 
nel, is  to  make  Miss  Angelica  get  rid  of  me,  know- 
in'  I  ain't  as  well  off  as  him,  suh." 

"That's  pretty  bad,  Sim.  But  you  shorely  ain't 
thinkin'  of  leavin'  the  field,  are  you?" 

"I'll  be  dog-goned  if  I  know  just  what  to  do,  suh. 
It  looks  mighty  poor-spirited  for  a  man  to  let  him- 
self be  bullyragged  out  of  his  rights  by  a  woman, 
but  the  cold  truth  is,  Colonel,  that  Miss  Angelica's 

100 


SIM    BIRDSONG'S    RESOLVE 

ma  is  an  all-fired  terrifyin'  lady,  suh.  The  case  looks 
mighty  serious  to  me,  Colonel  Todhunter." 

"It  is  serious,  Sim.  The  reason  why  it's  serious  is 
that  you've  let  that  old  brigadier  of  a  Mrs.  Exall 
bluff  you  till  you're  skeered  half  to  death  of  her." 

"I'm  skeered  all  right,  there's  no  two  ways  about 
that,  suh.  I'm  so  skeered  that  I  get  weak  and  trembly 
in  my  shank-bones  ever'  time  I  have  to  face  her, 
and  that's  the  Lord's  truth." 

"And  that's  right  where  you're  going  to  lose  out, 
Sim.  You've  let  that  old  catamaran  see  that  you're 
skeered  of  her,  and  she  ain't  a-goin'  to  show  you  no 
more  mercy'n  a  rabbit.  It's  all  right  for  a  man  to 
feel  shaky  before  the  girl  herself,  suh,  but  if  the 
girl's  got  such  a  cantankerous  mother  as  Miss  An- 
gelica Exall's  got,  his  only  play  is  to  bluff  the  girl's 
mother  to  a  standstill.  You  ought  to  be  like  a  roar- 
in'  lion  to  that  old  lady,  Sim  Birdsong — it's  the  only 
chance  you've  got  of  winnin'  Miss  Angelica." 

"That's  all  very  well,  Colonel.  It's  mighty  easy 
for  you  to  r'ar  back  and  advise  me  along  them  lines, 
but  I'd  like  to  see  you  try  any  roarin'  lion  business 
with  Miss  Angelica  Exall's  ma,  suh,  brave  man 
though  I  well  know  you  to  be.  You  begin  roarin' 

101 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

'round  her,  suh,  and  she'll  give  you  a  jolt  that'll  make 
your  back  teeth  come  loose,  Colonel." 

"How  come  you  to  know  all  this  beyond  the  per- 
adventure  of  a  doubt,  Sim?  Have  you  ever  had  sand 
enough  to  stand  up  to  old  Mrs.  Exall  and  fight  it  out 
with  her,  suh  ?" 

"See  here,  now,  Colonel !"  cried  Sim,  aghast.  "I'm 
havin'  trials  and  tribulations  enough,  holdin'  on  to 
Miss  Angelica  Exall,  without  cuttin'  off  my  nose  to 
spite  my  face  that-a-way,  suh.  I  wouldn't  last  in 
that  house  any  longer'n  you  can  say  'Jack  Robinson' 
if  I  didn't  behave  mighty  mealy-mouthed  when  old 
Mrs.  Exall's  around,  suh.  I  know  what  I'm  talkin' 
about." 

"Sim,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "if  that's  the  way 
you  feel  about  it,  you  ain't  no  more  goin'  to  get  Miss 
Angelica  Exall  than  you're  goin'  to  fly.  Your  goose 
is  cooked  right  now,  suh." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Colonel  ?" 

"I  mean  just  what  I  say,  Sim.  That  old  female 
war-hoss  knows  that  she's  got  you  and  Miss  Angelica 
skeered  to  a  frazzle,  suh.  And  she's  got  her  head 
set  on  marryin'  her  daughter  to  Politer  Scruggs  for 
his  farm  and  bank  account,  suh.  She'll  shoo  you  out 

1 02 


SIM    BIRDSONG'S    RESOLVE 

of  the  way  just  like  you  was  a  fly,  Sim — and  the  first 
thing  you  know  your  Miss  Angelica  Exall  will  be 
Airs.  Pohter  Scruggs,  suh,  and  old  Mrs.  Exall,  she'll 
be  a-settin'  in  their  fine  house  a-laughin'  at  you  for  a 
sway-backed  fool  that  didn't  know  he  held  a  win- 
nin'  hand  if  he'd  only  had  the  grit  to  play  his  cards 
straight,  suh." 

Sim  seemed  unable  to  make  reply  to  this. 

"Look  here,  Sim  Birdsong,"  asked  the  Colonel 
indignantly,  "have  you  ever  come  right  out  flat- 
footed  and  told  Miss  Angelica  Exall  that  you  loved 
her?" 

Sim  nodded.    "Yes,  suh,"  he  spoke  meekly. 

"And  has  Miss  Angelica  ever  revealed  the  state 
of  her  feelin's  to'ards  you,  suh?" 

A  glint  of  pride  came  into  Sim's  eyes.  "Yes,  suh," 
he  announced.  "She  done  that,  suh." 

"And  it's  all  right  between  you  two?" 

"It's  all  right  between  us,  Colonel,"  said  Sim  fer- 
vently. "Though  what  that  sweet  girl  can  see  in  me, 
when  she's  got  all  mankind  to  choose  from,  is  one 
of  God's  mysteries  that's  more'n  I  can  fathom,  suh." 

"You're  right  about  that,  Sim" — and  the  Colo- 
nel's eyes  twinkled.  "But  you're  sure  about  it,  too, 

103 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

ain't  you?  She  ain't  doin'  no  Injun-givin'  in  your 
case?" 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  said  Sim,  "I'd  stake  my 
life  on  it,  suh.  Miss  Angelica  Exall  loves  me,  suh, 
and  says  she'll  keep  on  lovin'  me  all  the  rest  of  her 
born  days." 

Colonel  Todhunter  gazed  at  the  speaker  severely. 
"And  do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  Sim  Birdsong,  that 
you  didn't  go  straight  to  old  Mrs.  Exall  that  very 
minute  and  tell  her  you  and  Miss  Angelica  was  a-go- 
in'  to  get  married?" 

Dismay  crept  into  Sim  Birdsong's  face.  "Well — 
er — Colonel,"  he  stammered,  "the  truth  is,  suh,  that 
I  did  go  to  Miss  Angelica's  ma  right  then  and  there, 
suh,  and  ask  her  if  I  couldn't  have  Miss  Angelica." 

There  was  an  ominous  pause. 

"Colonel,"  said  Sim  Birdsong,  gulping,  "she  come 
mighty  nigh  bitin'  my  head  off.  It  was  terrible,  suh. 
I  didn't  know  a  woman  of  her  age  could  get  so  mad, 
suh.  There  ain't  no  other  word  for  it,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter. It  was  terrible." 

"And  you  haven't  broached  the  subject  since 
then?" 

"No,  suh,  I  have  not" — and  Sim  shivered  a  little. 
104 


SIM    BIRDSONG'S    RESOLVE 

"But  I'm  a-goin'  to,  suh,  just  the  minute  I  feel  able — 
spite'n  the  fact  that  she  threatened  to  throw  me  out'n 
her  house  if  I  ever  opened  my  mouth  to  her  about 
Miss  Angelica  again,  suh." 

"You've  got  to,  Sim,"  said  the  Colonel.  Then  he 
chuckled.  "Do  you  know  what  she's  a-goin'  to  do 
to  you,"  he  asked,  "when  you  come  back  at  her  that 
next  time?" 

"No,  suh,"  said  Sim.   "What  is  it?" 

"She'll  snatch  you  bald-headed,  Sim,  that's  what 
she'll  do." 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  asked  Sim,  "I  got  to  ask 
her,  ain't  I?" 

The  Colonel  nodded  forebodingly.  "Just  once 
more,  anyway,  and  may  the  Lord  have  mercy  on 
your  soul !"  Sim  made  no  reply. 

The  Colonel  contemplated  him  meditatively. 
"Sim,"  he  spoke  at  last,  "things  used  to  be  mighty 
different  in  this-here  country.  The  young  men  in  my 
days  was  a  heap  more  enterprisin'  than  they  seem 
to  be  now,  suh." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Colonel  ?" 

"Wrell,  suh,"  answered  Colonel  Todhunter,  "I 
don't  want  to  say  more'n  I  ought  to,  but  my  experi- 

105 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

ence  teaches  me  one  thing,  certain.  It's  this,  Sim. 
Love  is  either  the  biggest  and  best  thing  in  life,  and 
therefore  entitled  to  the  right-of-way  over  every- 
thing else,  or  it  ain't — and  then  this  life  of  our'n 
ain't  worth  the  livin',  suh.  What  do  you  think  about 
it,  Sim?" 

The  younger  man  gazed  into  the  elder's  face  per- 
plexed. "I'll  be  dog-goned,  Colonel,"  he  said,  "if  I 
catch  what  you're  a-drivin'  at,  suh." 

"I  don't  say  I'm  a-drivin'  at  anything  in  particu- 
lar, Sim,"  spoke  the  Colonel.  "But  there  used  to  be  a 
lot  of  runaway  weddin's  in  my  young  days,  suh. 
And  them  weddin's  used  to  turn  out  mighty  happy, 
too." 

Sim  Birdsong  caught  his  breath.  "Do  you  advise, 
Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  inquired,  "that  me  and  Miss 
Angelica  Exall  run  away  and  get  married  ?" 

"I  don't  advise  nothin',  Sim,"  replied  the  Colonel. 
"But  I  do  say  this.  There  ain't  goin'  to  be  no  more'n 
a  grease-spot  left  of  you  if  you  keep  on  pesterin'  old 
Mrs.  Exall  for  her  daughter  after  this  one  more 
time,  suh." 

The  light  of  a  desperate  resolve  leaped  into  Sim's 
eyes.  "Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  said  then,  "sometime 

106 


SIM    BIRDSONG'S    RESOLVE 

in  the  near  future,  suh,  I  may  have  to  ask  a  very 
great  personal  favor  of  you,  suh." 

"Sim,"  replied  the  Colonel,  "I'll  do  most  anything 
in  the  world  for  a  young  man  I  esteem  as  highly  as 
I  do  you,  suh." 

"I  thank  you,  suh,"  responded  Sim  Birdsong.  "It 
won't  be  nothin'  that  a  gentleman  couldn't  honor- 
ably do  for  a  friend,  suh,  but  if  everything  turns 
out  right,  two  grateful  hearts  will  be  pray  in'  for 
you  all  the  rest  of  their  lives,  suh."  With  which  as- 
surance Sim  bade  the  Colonel  farewell. 

And  the  Colonel  fortified  himself  with  philosophic 
argument.  "It'll  be  the  proper  thing  to  do,"  he  re- 
flected. "And  I'll  be  jig-whiffled  if  I  don't  hope  Sim 
Birdsong's  got  manhood  enough  to  do  it.  It's  all 
mighty  fine  to  talk  about  the  rights  of  parents  over 
their  children.  They've  got  'em  to  a  mighty  far 
point,  and  they  ought  to  have  'em.  But  what  right 
has  a  mother  got  that  she  don't  surrender  when  she's 
willin'  to  marry  her  daughter  off  for  money,  knowin' 
the  girl  loves  another  man  ?  Talk  about  the  natural 
human  affections — I'll  be  shot  full  o'  holes  if  I  be- 
lieve even  a  she  wild-cat  would  be  capable  of  doin' 
such  a  thing  as  that,  suh !" 

107 


CHAPTER  VIII 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  ENCOUNTERS  A  FINANCIAL 
STRINGENCY 

SUDDENLY,  one  day,  the  Honorable  William 
J.  Strickland  returned  from  St.  Louis.  An  ex- 
pression of  acute  worriment  so  contrary  to  its  cus- 
tomary cheerfulness  rested  on  his  face  that  Colonel 
Todhunter,  entering  the  candidate's  Nineveh  law 
office,  could  not  but  remark  the  change. 

"What  on  earth's  the  matter,  Bill?"  he  asked. 
"You  look  like  the  last  of  pea-times." 

Colonel  Strickland  attempted  a  smile.  "Oh,  noth- 
ing particular,  Thurs,"  he  replied.  "I  reckon  I  was 
just  meditating  on  the  vanity  of  human  life." 

"Well,  it  must  have  been  Hark  from  the  Tombs 
a  Doleful  Sound  all  right,"  laughed  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  Then  he  took  a  second  look  at  his  friend. 

"You're  lyin'  to  me,  Bill  Strickland,"  he  said. 
"There's  somethin'  gone  wrong  and  it's  on  your 
mind.  What  is  it?" 

"Thurs/'  responded  the  other,  "it  ain't  anything 
1 08 


A    FINANCIAL    STRINGENCY 

you  can  help.  There's  no  good  in  my  unloading  my 
troubles  on  you  just  because  you've  got  broad  shoul- 
ders." 

"Unload  'em  anyhow,"  returned  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  "You  ought  to  know  folks  can  shed  other 
folks'  troubles  ofFn  their  shoulders  like  water  from 
a  duck's  back." 

But  Colonel  Strickland  shook  his  head.  "There's 
been  a  backset  somewhere  along  the  line,"  announced 
Colonel  Todhunter  stubbornly.  "And  you've  got  to 
tell  me  what  it  is.  Quit  settin'  there  lookin'  like  a 
poor  man  at  a  cash  sale,  Bill  Strickland,  dumb  'cause 
money's  all  that  talks." 

At  this  Colonel  Strickland  laughed  drearily. 
"That's  where  you  hit  the  nail  on  the  head,"  he  said. 
"Money,  the  mean  and  dirty  thing  that  can  whip  the 
best  man  in  the  world — that's  the  trouble,  Thurs." 

"It's  generally  the  other  man's  money  that  looks 
dirty,  Bill,"  Colonel  Todhunter  commented,  chuck- 
ling. "I  got  to  acknowledge  the  corn  myself.  I  never 
had  a  dollar  of  my  own  that  didn't  look  mighty  clean 
and  good  to  me.  But  what's  this  particular  money 
trouble?" 

".Well,  if  you  will  have  it,  Thurs,  it's  this,"  re- 
IOQ 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

plied  Colonel  Strickland.  "I'm  up  a  tree  in  the  mat- 
ter of  campaign  expenses.  Old  Governor  Leslie  was 
sure  he  could  raise  a  Strickland  campaign  fund  by 
asking  the  right  men  and  telling  them  what  he  pro- 
posed to  do  with  it,  they  knowing  that  Steve  Yan- 
cey  ain't  fit  to  be  governor  of  Missouri.  But  so  far 
he's  met  with  mighty  poor  success.  He  told  me  all 
about  it  in  St.  Louis  yesterday.  I  ain't  got  a  dollar 
in  the  world — and  we've  established  headquarters  in 
St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City  that's  got  to  be  kept  up. 
How  we're  going  to  do  it  is  what  I  can't  figure  out." 

The  two  old  friends  faced  each  other  silently. 

"That  certainly  is  a  serious  situation,  Bill,"  spoke 
Colonel  Todhunter  at  last. 

"It's  so  almighty  serious,  Thurs,"  returned  the 
other,  "that  I  can't  see  my  way  out  of  it." 

But  at  this  Colonel  Todhunter  snorted.  "That's 
where  you're  wrong,  Bill  Strickland,"  he  exclaimed. 
"I've  been  in  tighter  places'n  anybody  on  earth, 
'ceptin'  the  fellow  who  come  out  of  a  spree  with  hot 
coppers  in  hades,  but  I'll  be  jim-swizzled  if  I  ever 
got  into  one  I  couldn't  get  out  of.  And  we  ain't  in 
that  kind  of  a  one  now.  How  much  money  do  you 
need?" 

no 


A   FINANCIAL    STRINGENCY 

Colonel  Strickland  shook  his  head.  "There's  no 
good  you  and  me  figuring  along  that  line,  old  fellow. 
We  need  at  least  three  thousand  dollars,  and  while 
it's  pretty  certain  old  Leslie  will  raise  that  amount 
eventually,  that  doesn't  cut  any  ice  now.  We  need 
the  money  right  here  at  the  start." 

"And  you  can't  raise  it?"  asked  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter. 

"No,  I  can't,"  answered  Colonel  Strickland.  "And 
I  get  what  a  man  deserves  for  thinking  he  knows 
how  to  save  the  country  when  he  don't  even  know 
how  to  take  care  of  himself." 

"That  ain't  so,  Bill,"  answered  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  sturdily.  "And  anybody  that  thinks  they  can 
keep  you  from  bein'  governor  of  Mizzoorah  simply 
because  you're  a  poor  man  has  got  another  think 
comin',  suh.  You  draw  your  personal  note  for  three 
thousand  dollars  in  my  favor.  I'll  indorse  it  right 
here — and  if  I  don't  get  that  money  it's  because  the 
Nineveh  National  Bank  don't  know  a  good  thing 
when  it  sees  it." 

"What  do  you  mean,  Todhunter  ?"  asked  Colonel 
Strickland,  instant  protest  in  his  eyes. 

"I  mean  this,  Bill  Strickland,"  replied  Colonel 
in 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Todhunter.  "In  the  first  place,  old  Governor  Leslie 
is  dead  sure  to  raise  that-there  campaign  fund.  In 
the  second  place,  all  Heaven  and  hell  hates  a  quitter, 
and  you  ain't  a-goin'  to  be  one.  In  the  third  place, 
the  Todhunter  farm  is  as  pretty  a  piece  of  collateral 
for  a  three-thousand-dollar  loan  as  old  Shylock  him- 
self would  have  the  heart  to  ask." 

"That's  exactly  what  I  thought  you  were  going  to 
say,"  quietly  commented  Colonel  Strickland.  "But 
it  don't  go  for  a  minute.  I  ain't  going  to  tie  you  up 
on  this  proposition." 

"Th'  ain't  nobody  goin'  to  tie  me  up,"  said  Colonel 
Todhunter.  "And  I  ain't  goin'  to  tie  myself  up, 
either.  I'm  goin'  to  tie  the  other  fellow  up.  I'll  tie 
up  them-there  tricksters  in  St.  Louis  that's  queerin' 
old  Governor  Leslie's  game.  They're  the  ones  that's 
puttin'  a  frost  on  the  Strickland  campaign  fund.  If 
they  can  do  that  successfully,  they've  got  you 
whipped  right  here  and  now.  But  I'm  a-goin'  to  fool 
'em." 

"No,  Thurs,  .1  won't  do  it,"  protested  Colonel 
Strickland.  "Putting  up  a  good  fight  is  one  thing, 
but  ruining  your  friends  is  something  entirely  dif- 
ferent. I  haven't  fallen  that  low,  yet." 

112 


A   FINANCIAL    STRINGENCY 

"You  haven't  fallen  anywhere,"  said  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  "But  you've  got  my  fightin'  blood  up,  and 
by  the  Lord  Harry,  if  you  ain't  man  enough  to  fight 
alongside  o'  me,  I'll  fight  by  myself !" 

"Todhunter,"  said  Colonel  Strickland,  "it's  all 
wrong.  You  haven't  got  any  call  to  do  a  thing  like 
that  for  me." 

"The  man  that  ain't  got  no  call  to  help  a  friend 
that  needs  help,"  replied  Colonel  Todhunter,  "ain't 
got  no  call  to  keep  on  livin'.  You  set  down  there 
and  make  out  that-there  note." 

Reluctantly,  Colonel  Strickland  obeyed.  But  he 
smiled  cynically  as  he  passed  the  paper  to  Colonel 
Todhunter. 

"You  forget,  Thurs,"  he  said,  "that  old  Eph 
Tucker  is  president  of  the  Nineveh  National  Bank. 
Is  he  likely  to  finance  our  campaign  against  Steve 
Yancey?" 

Colonel  Todhunter  laughed.  "I  ain't  forgettin' 
nothin',"  he  responded.  "And  don't  you  forget  that 
old  Eph  Tucker  was  a  note-shaver  long  before  he 
was  a  politician,  and  he's  got  note-shavin'  in  his 
blood  bigger'n  a  mule.  He  couldn't  no  more  let  a 
good  piece  of  paper  get  away  from  his  bank  than  he 


COLONEL1  TODHUNTER   OF  MISSOURI 

could  fly — and  angels'll  have  to  be  mighty  scarce  be- 
fore old  Eph  Tucker  does  any  flyin' !" 

Nevertheless,  when  Colonel  Todhunter  presented 
the  Strickland  note,  indorsed  by  him  and  with  his 
unincumbered  farm  as  collateral,  for  discount,  he 
found  old  Eph  Tucker  solicitously  inquisitive. 

"What's  it  all  about,  Colonel  Todhunter?"  the 
banker  asked.  "You  and  Bill  Strickland  going  in 
together  on  some  business  deal?  What's  the  con- 
sideration for  the  note  ?" 

Colonel  Todhunter  looked  old  Tucker  square  in 
the  eyes.  "Eph,"  he  replied,  "I'm  a-goin'  to  play  my 
cards  face  up  on  the  table.  Bill  Strickland  needs 
money  to  pay  his  campaign  expenses.  That's  why 
I'm  indorsin'  his  note  and  askin'  this  bank  to  dis- 
count it." 

Old  Tucker's  little  eyes  narrowed.  "And  you're 
gettin'  no  good  out  of  it  yourself  ?"  he  asked,  study- 
ing Colonel  Todhunter  curiously.  "You're  lending 
your  credit  and  risking  your  farm  just  to  help  Bill 
Strickland  along  in  politics  ?" 

"That's  what  I'm  doin',  Eph,"  replied  Colonel 
Todhunter. 

"Then,"  said  the  banker,  "you're  a  bigger  fool 
114 


A   FINANCIAL    STRINGENCY 

than  I  took  you  for.  Bill  Strickland  ain't  good  for 
a  hundred  dollars  with  this  bank." 

"He's  good  for  any  amount  with  me,  Eph,"  re- 
turned Colonel  Todhunter,  a  sudden  menace  in  his 
tone.  "But  that  ain't  the  question.  Is  this  note 
good,  as  it  stands  now  ?" 

"Bill  Strickland  don't  stand  no  more  show  for  the 
nomination  than  a  rabbit,"  spoke  old  Tucker.  "He'll 

* 

never  get  his  hands  on  the  governor's  salary,  if 
that's  what  you're  counting  on,  Colonel  Todhunter." 

"Eph,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "I'll  look  out  for 
that  end  of  the  business.  All  I  want  you  to  do  is  to 
pass  on  this-here  note." 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  replied  the  banker,  "the  in- 
dorsement and  the  collateral  make  this  note  good, 
and  it's  a  banker's  business  to  buy  good  paper.  We'll 
discount  the  note.  It's  your  funeral,  not  ours." 

"That  finishes  the  business  then,"  said  Colonel 
Todhunter.  "I  ain't  worryin'  about  any  funerals. 
But  if  you're  a-countin'  on  either  Bill  Strickland  or 
me  ftwnishin'  the  corpse,  Eph,  you're  goin'  to  see 
one  of  the  liveliest  corpses  you  ever  seen  in  all  your 
born  days,  suh !" 

The  old  banker  made  no  reply. 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Colonel  Todhunter  was  chuckling  when  he  re- 
ported to  Colonel  Strickland.  "It's  all  right,  Bill, 
and  you  can  get  back  to  St.  Louis  right  away,"  he 
said.  "I  got  the  money  from  old  Eph  Tucker.  But 
great  Scott  and  Maria,  it  was  worse'n  pullin'  eye- 
teeth!  All  the  same,  we  got  it — and  now  we'll  per- 
ceed  to  lick  old  Eph  with  his  own  money !" 

But  Colonel  Todhunter  would  not  have  spoken  so 
confidently  if  he  had  heard  the  gloating  speech  of 
President  Tucker,  of  the  Nineveh  National  Bank, 
a  moment  or  two  after  his  own  departure  from  that 
institution. 

"The  two  helpless  fools!"  muttered  old  Eph 
Tucker  to  himself.  "I've  got  'em  both  where  I  want 
'em  now.  We'll  ruin  Bill  Strickland  for  good  and 
all  this  time.  We'll  wipe  him  off  the  political  map 
of  Missouri.  And  as  for  old  Thurston  Todhunter, 
I'll  make  such  a  lame  duck  out  of  him  yet  that  the 
only  Todhunter  who  can  ever  live  on  that  farm  of 
his  again  will  have  to  marry  a  Tucker  to  do  it — 
like  I'll  make  Mary  Todhunter  marry  my  son  Stam 
before  I'm  through  with  her!" 


116 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER  CUTS  A  WIDE  SWATH  IN 
MISSOURI'S    METROPOLIS 

TO  Colonel  Todhunter,  a  countryman  born  and 
bred,  and  of  an  innate  rusticity  of  soul  that 
was  an  essential  part  of  his  being,  contact  with  the 
throbbing  life  of  a  big  city  was  so  rare  and  foreign 
that  it  never  failed  to  emphasize  his  picturesque  un- 
likeness  to  the  urban  type.  He  stalked  into  the  busy 
St.  Louis  headquarters  of  the  Honorable  William 
J.  Strickland  on  the  parlor  floor  of  the  Laclede  Ho- 
tel, the  living  embodiment  of  that  political  figure 
dear  to  the  amused  metropolitan  imagination,  "the 
delegate  from  the  rural  districts."  It  was  a  brave 
and  honest  face  that  showed  itself  in  Colonel  Bill 
Strickland's  private  office,  but  somewhat  dismayed  at 
thought  of  an  impending  ordeal. 

"I'll  just  be  eternally  whipsawed  if  you  ain't  a-try- 
in'  to  make  a  round  peg  fit  into  a  square  hole,  Bill !" 
he  protested  earnestly,  something  like  awe  of  his  sur- 
roundings stamped  upon  his  sunburned  features. 

117 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER  OF   MISSOURI 

"I'm  willin'  to  do  'most  anything  in  the  world  for 
you,  and  you  know  it.  But  when  you  turn  me  loose 
in  a  big  town  like  this  and  expect  me  to  behave  like 
anything  more'n  a  wall-eyed  plow-horse  with  his 
tail  full  o'  cuckle-burs,  I'll  be  everlastin'ly  con- 
demned if  you  ain't  makin'  a  mighty  serious  mistake, 
suh!" 

"Nonsense,  Thurs!"  laughed  Colonel  Strickland. 
"I'm  counting  on  you  for  some  St.  Louis  speeches 
that'll  be  worth  their  weight  in  gold,  my  friend.  We 
need  you  here,  sir,  a  man  that  talks  old-fashioned 
American  Democracy  straight  from  the  shoulder. 
City  politicians  have  forgotten  what  the  real  Demo- 
cratic doctrine  is,  Thurs,  and  we've  got  to  revive 
it  in  the  people's  hearts  if  we  expect  'em  to  vote 
right.  That's  why  I  want  you  to  help  me  open  my 
St.  Louis  campaign.  You've  got  to  do  it,  Thurs !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  gazed  at  his  friend  pensively. 
"Bill,"  he  said,  "I'm  a-goin'  to  do  it,  as  you  well 
know.  I'd  strip  the  shirt  off'n  my  back  and  head 
a  percession  wavin'  it  for  a  Strickland  banner  if  you 
asked  me  to,  whether  I  thought  it  was  the  best  thing 
to  do  under  the  circumstances  or  not.  But  I  bid  you 
remember,  Bill,  that  I  warned  you  in  time.  It'll  be 

118 


THE    COLONEL   CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

your  fault  if  you  have  occasion  to  regret  haviri' 
brought  me  in  from  the  pasture  and  stacked  me  up 
against  these-here  bang-tailed  city  thoroughbreds, 
suh!" 

"I'll  take  the  chances,  old  fellow!"  said  the  can- 
didate, his  eyes  twinkling.  "You  just  oblige  me  now 
for  old  friendship's  sake  and  I'll  be  responsible  for 
everything  that  happens  afterward.  I  ain't  the  least 
bit  afraid." 

"I'll  eat  my  hat  if  I  don't  wish  I  could  say  the 
same,  suh!"  ejaculated  Colonel  Todhunter,  a  vehe- 
ment panic  in  his  tone.  "I'm  skeered  to  the  marrow, 
suh,  because  I'm  out  o'  my  bailiwick  and  up  against 
a  proposition  that  I  don't  know  any  more  about'n  a 
hog  knows  about  a  holiday,  suh.  And  you're  a-goin' 
to  discover,  suh,  before  we  get  through  with  this 
piece  of  foolishness,  that  I  had  mighty  good  reasons 
for  bein'  skeered,  too !" 

"Shucks,  you  old  war-horse!"  laughed  Colonel 
Bill  Strickland.  "Once  you  get  into  the  fight  you'll 
warm  up  like  a  two-year-old  and  show  these  St. 
Louis  folks  what  a  real  Missouri  Democrat  is. 
You're  going  to  make  the  hit  of  your  life,  sir!" 

"Maybe  I  am  and  maybe  I  ain't,  Bill  Strickland," 
119 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

quoth  Colonel  Todhunter  moodily.  "But  all  I  ask 
at  the  finish  is  that  you'll  remember  it  wa'n't  me  that 
made  the  prediction,  suh.  I'm  a  natural  born  op- 
timist, suh,  but  that  don't  necessarily  mean  that  I'm 
a  natural  born  jackass  at  all  times  and  under  all  cir- 
cumstances and  on  all  subjects,  as  some  folks  seem 
to  think,  suh !" 

And  in  this  frame  of  mind  Colonel  Todhunter 
returned  into  the  general  headquarters  offices  and 
was  introduced  to  his  Nineveh  friend's  St.  Louis 
backers  and  campaign  staff. 

A  quiet  young  newspaper  man  who  happened  to 
be  drifting  through  the  rooms  seemed  instantly  im- 
pressed by  .Colonel  Todhunter's  picturesque  person- 
ality. He  studied  the  Colonel  intently,  a  growing  ap- 
preciation in  his  thoughtful  and  latently  humorous 
eyes. 

After  exchanging  a  few  words  with  this  new  ad- 
dition to  the  Strickland  forces  the  journalist  went 
into  one  of  the  private  telephone  booths  at  the  end 
of  the  reception-room  and  called  up  his  paper.  Then 
he  came  back  to  Colonel  Todhunter,  engaging  him  in 
conversation.  A  few  minutes  later  a  second  man 
casually  appeared  and  unobtrusively  stationed  him- 

120 


THE    COLONEL   CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

self  where  he  had  a  good  front  view  of  the  Colonel, 
who  was  being  deftly  led  into  political  dissertation 
by  his  new  acquaintance. 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland,  passing  through  the 
main  room  at  one  moment,  saw  the  two  with  their 
heads  together.  Something  like  a  gleam  of  laughter 
leaped  into  his  eyes  and  he  nodded,  almost  imper- 
ceptibly, an  approving  signal  to  Colonel  Todhunter's 
companion.  Then,  for  an  hour  or  more,  the  two 
were  left  undisturbed. 

They  chatted  pleasantly  on  many  topics.  The 
Colonel  himself  was  led  to  talk  discursively  on  the 
political  situation  in  Missouri,  the  distinctive  types 
of  party  leaders  in  the  country  districts,  his  own 
personal  views  and  ample  reminiscences  of  past  cam- 
paigns in  the  state,  his  quaint  valuation  of  Dem- 
ocracy's great  historic  figures.  He  was  in  reality 
being  trapped  into  a  self-revelation.  Behind  his  talk, 
animating  it  and  shining  through  its  unsuspecting 
frankness  and  utter  naturalness,  appeared  the  child- 
like and  simple  soul  of  the  speaker,  presented  with 
absolute  unreserve.  The  Colonel's  companion  was 
the  most  appreciative  of  listeners,  and,  as  he  listened, 
a  light  of  whimsical  regard  deepened  in  his  eyes. 


121 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"But  I'm  a-takin'  up  a  heap  of  your  time,  suh !" 
exclaimed  the  Colonel  finally.  "I  reckon  you  city 
newspaper  men  have  to  trot  around  after  news  till 
your  tongue's  a-hangin'  out  of  your  mouth  a  yard 
long.  You  mustn't  let  me  keep  you  from  other 
things,  suh." 

"Not  at  all,  Colonel  Todhunter!"  came  the  quick 
response.  "It's  been  well  worth  while,  sir.  I  intend 
using  some  of  your  talk,  if  you  have  no  objection, 
so  you're  really  helping  me  out,  you  know." 

The  Colonel  looked  at  his  companion  pityingly. 
"You're  wastin'  your  powder,  young  man.  I  can  talk 
by  the  hour,  but  what  I  say  ain't  got  no  more  busi- 
ness bein'  printed  in  a  great  city  newspaper'n  a  whiff 
o'  wind  a-rustlin'  the  dry  leaves  in  the  woods,  suh. 
You  better  be  mighty  careful,  try  in'  to  make  some- 
thin'  worth  while  out  o'  them-there  observations  of 
mine — your  folks  at  the  paper'll  think  you're  worse'n 
a  old  huntin'-dog  that  goes  sky-hootin'  off  lickety- 
split  after  a  rabbit  when  it's  pa'tridges  they  was 
a-countin'  on  him  to  p'int,  suh." 

The  newspaper  man  leaned  back  and  laughed  zest- 
fully. "Colonel,  I'm  willing  to  take  the  chances  on 
that,  if  you  are.  And  I'll  leave  it  to  you,  to-morrow 

122 


"You're  wastin'  your  powder,  young  man"    Page  122 


THE    COLONEL    CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

afternoon,  if  I  don't  know  what's  worth  while  when 
I  see  it,  sir.  You've  given  me  a  cracker- jack  talk  on 
Missouri  politics,  and  I'm  very  much  obliged  to  you, 
Colonel." 

"You're  mighty  welcome,"  replied  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  genial  but  doubtful.  "I'll  be  shot  full  o' 
holes  if  I  see  how  you're  a-goin'  to  write  a  piece 
from  what  I've  been  sayin',  suh." 

Then,  suddenly,  he  nodded  to  his  front.  "What 
in  blue  blazes  and  Sam  Hill  is  that  man  a-doin' 
there?"  he  asked.  "The  one  with  that  placard  in  his 
hand,  squintin'  at  me  every  two  seconds  and  then 
jabbin'  down  somethin'  with  his  pencil?  That's  the 
confoundedest  most  singular  proceedin'  I  ever  laid 
my  two  eyes  on,  suh !" 

The  young  newspaper  man  shook  with  laughter. 
"Colonel,"  he  said,  his  humorous  lips  twitching, 
"don't  you  worry  about  that  man.  He's  perfectly 
harmless.  I  know  him.  He's  got  a  bug  on  political 
celebrities,  sir.  It's  a  case  of  bats  in  his  belfry  on 
that  one  subject.  He  goes  around  recording  his 
impressions  at  close  range  during  every  campaign, 
just  the  way  you  see  him  now.  Most  remarkable 
character,  Colonel  I've  known  him  for  a  long  time," 

123 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Well,  suh,"  replied  Colonel  Todhunter,  "I'll  be 
eternally  condemned  if  he  mustn't  ha'  wrote  a  whole 
book  about  me,  then.  He's  been  jabbin'  that-there 
pencil  o'  his'n  up  and  down  for  the  last  twenty  min- 
utes or  so  worse'n  a  little  girl  playin'  tit-tat-to  be- 
hind her  jogaphy  endurin'  school  time,  suh!" 

The  newspaper  man  wiped  tears  of  laughter  from 
his  eyes.  "I'll  take  him  away  now,  Colonel,"  he  said 
at  last,  rising.  "I've  got  to  go  back  to  the  office,  and 
it  always  tickles  him  to  talk  to  somebody  about  his 
impressions.  I  expect  he'll  have  a  lot  to  say  about 
you,  sir." 

"Well,  you  keep  it  dark,  suh,  if  he  does,"  replied 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "I  got  enough  to  stand  up  un- 
der, here  in  St.  Louis,  without  no  comments  from 
such  an  almighty  curious  specimen  o'  humanity  as 
that,  suh !" 

And  at  this  the  newspaper  man  fairly  exploded. 
He  was  still  shaking  with  laughter  when  he  joined 
the  mysterious  stranger.  The  latter  promptly  pock- 
eted his  pencil,  stuck  his  bit  of  cardboard  under  his 
arm,  and  then,  together,  the  two  departed. 

"It's  this-here  crazy-like  city  life  that  makes  such 
wrecks  as  that  poor  simple  Simon,"  mused  the  Colo- 

124 


THE    COLONEL    CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

nel.  "I-gad,  it  beats  me  why  any  human  bein'  is 
willin'  to  live  it,  let  alone  pay  such  a  price  as  that 
for  it!  But  it  takes  all  sorts  o'  people  to  make  a 
world,  I'll  just  be  jim-swizzled  if  it  don't,  suh!" 

The  next  afternoon  when  Colonel  Todhunter's 
eyes  fell  on  the  front  page  of  the  leading  Indepen- 
dent Democratic  paper  of  St.  Louis,  he  fairly  gasped 
with  horror.  Then  followed  an  almost  tragic  pause 
as  he  absorbed  the  full  meaning  of  what  had  so  sud- 
denly stricken  him  with  dismay.  The  next  moment 
he  handed  the  newspaper  to  Colonel  Strickland. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Bill?"  he  groaned.  "I'm 
a-goin'  back  to  Nineveh  just  as  fast  as  the  good 
Lord'll  let  me,  suh!" 

Colonel  Strickland's  gaze  rested  upon  the  news- 
paper page.  He  saw  Colonel  Todhunter's  name 
boldly  typed  in  the  flaring  head-line  that  extended 
across  three  columns.  A  full-length  "character-car- 
toon" of  the  Colonel  surrounded  by  "thumb-nail" 
impressions  of  his  face  and  bodily  pose  at  various  in- 
teresting moments  of  his  talk  of  the  preceding  day 
surrounded  the  larger  portrait. 

Colonel  Strickland  began  a  reading  of  the  article. 
A  smile  crept  upon  his  face.  Slowly  his  eyes  went 

125 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

down  the  printed  page.  The  smile  broadened.  Soon 
it  became  a  chuckle.  Later,  absorbed  in  the  reading, 
the  candidate's  shoulders  shook  as  he  read.  Finally, 
with  one  big  fist  pinning  the  newspaper  to  the  table 
in  front  of  him,  Colonel  Bill  Strickland  leaned  back 
in  his  chair  and  roared  with  laughter. 

"Lord  have  mercy  on  us,  Thurs!"  he  gasped. 
"It's  the  best  and  truest  thing  I  ever  saw  in  my  life! 
They've  got  you  finished  off  to  the  queen's  taste!" 

"I  don't  know  nothin'  about  the  queen's  taste, 
suh,"  spoke  Colonel  Todhunter  grimly,  "but  I  know 
one  thing  almighty  well.  I'm  a-goin'  to  dust  that 
newspaper  man's  jacket  for  him  the  next  time  he 
comes  in  reach  o'  me.  Great  name  above,  suh,  th' 
ain't  no  man  can  handle  Colonel  Thurs  T.  Tod- 
hunter  like  that  and  not  get  it  well  taken  out  of  his 
hide,  suh!" 

Again  Colonel  Strickland  shouted  with  laughter. 
"You  old  fool!"  he  sputtered.  "That  newspaper 
man  knows  you  better  than  you  know  yourself — it's 
wonderful,  Thurs!  He's  made  a  character  study 
of  you  that's  nothing  more  or  less  than  a  miracle, 
my  friend!" 

It  was  the  truth.  Colonel  Todhunter  had  come 
126 


THE    COLONEL   CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

under  the  vision  of  a  masterfully  gifted  newspaper 
expert  in  "character  values."  The  young  fellow 
with  whom  he  had  chatted  so  freely  and  at  such 
ease  on  the  preceding  afternoon  had  temperamen- 
tally "absorbed"  him,  body  and  soul.  Then  he  had 
gone  to  his  newspaper  desk  and  written  a  descriptive 
interview  that  was  sheerly  the  Colonel  himself  in  the 
flesh.  It  was  a  feat  of  psychological  wizardry.  The 
man  achieving  it  seemed  to  have  put  aside  his  own 
being  for  the  moment  and  taken  on  that  of  Colonel 
Todhunter  instead.  As  a  result  of  this  exercise  of 
the  strangest  of  literary  powers,  Colonel  Todhunter 
himself,  the  typical  figure  of  a  Missouri  Democrat 
of  the  old  school,  talked  in  his  proper  person,  a  liv- 
ing, breathing,  almost  palpable  entity,  from  the 
printed  page. 

And  the  keenly  humorous,  appreciative  and  well- 
nigh  loving  quality  that  signalized  the  writer's  per- 
formance of  his  task  was  finely  reinforced  by  the 
work  of  the  cartoonist.  The  sketches  themselves 
were  lifelike,  bringing  out  the  Colonel's  every  salient 
characteristic  in  facial  expression,  bodily  pose  and 
gesture. 

But  this  amazing  projection  of  himself  in  print- 
127 


er's  ink  on  the  publicity  "screen"  of  a  newspaper's 
front  page  appalled  Colonel  Todhunter.  He  shrank 
from  it,  shocked,  with  all  a  countryman's  dismay 
at  sudden  prominence  before  the  world. 

"It's  all  right  for  you,  Bill — you  can  afford  to 
laugh !"  he  said  indignantly.  "But  I'm  the  one  that's 
holdin'  the  bag,  suh !  It's  me  that's  put  on  that-there 
infernal  circus-poster  like  the  Wild  Man  o'  Borneo, 
not  you.  And  I'll  be  shot  full  o'  holes  if  it  ain't  me 
that's  a-goin'  to  hold  them-there  two  young  rascals 
to  an  accountin'  for  it,  you  mark  my  words,  suh!" 

Colonel  Strickland  wiped  the  tears  from  his  eyes. 

"You're  all  wrong,  Thurs — honest,  you  are!"  he 
protested.  "There  ain't  a  line  in  that  story  that  don't 
speak  good  of  you,  and  what  you  say  there  is  as 
sound  as  a  dollar.  It's  you  talking,  to  the  life,  old 
fellow,  and  you're  talking  for  me,  and  every  word 
you  say  helps  us  more  than  a  column  of  ordinary 
newspaper  stuff.  I  wouldn't  take  a  thousand  dollars 
for  it,  right  now !" 

"I'd  sell  it  for  a  blamed  sight  less'n  that,  suh!" 
hotly  replied  Colonel  Todhunter.  "And  didn't  I 
warn  you — didn't  I  tell  you  beforehand  that  they'd 
shorely  size  me  up  as  a  country -jake  from  the  very 

128 


THE    COLONEL    CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

beginning  and  that  I'd  bungle  you  all  up  here  in  St. 
Louis,  suh?  Didn't  I  say  that  as  sure  as  I  came  to 
these  here  city  headquarters  o'  your'n  I'd  play  the 
very  old  blue  blazes  and  Sam  Hill  'fore  I  got 
through,  suh?  Yes,  suh — and  I'm  a-headin'  straight 
back  for  Nineveh  this  very  day,  suh !" 

"No,  you  ain't — not  by  a  jugful !"  retorted  Colo- 
nel Strickland,  manfully  striving  to  straighten  his 
face  into  gravity.  "No,  sir.  You'll  speak  at  the 
Coliseum  this  very  night,  just  as  we've  planned, 
Thurs,  and  I'll  tell  you  another  thing.  You'll  speak 
to  the  biggest  and  most  enthusiastic  audience  the 
Coliseum  ever  held,  or  else  I  don't  know  the  signs 
of  a  man's  popularity  when  I  see  'em,  sir !" 

"You've  got  some  powerful  funny  ideas  of  popu- 
larity, then,  that's  all  I  got  to  say,  Bill  Strickland !" 
snorted  Colonel  Todhunter.  "Popular  be  durned! 
What  I  ought  to  do  by  rights  is  to  sue  that-there 
St.  Louis  paper  for  criminal  libel,  suh.  Them  car- 
toons o'  me  is  the  confoundedest  most  terrible  look- 
in'  things  I  ever  saw  in  all  my  born  days,  suh !" 

In  spite  of  himself  Colonel  Strickland  roared 
again.  "Thurs,"  he  said,  "they're  the  living  image 
of  you!" 

129 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

And  then  Colonel  Todhunter  exploded.  "That's 
precisely  the  trouble,  suh !  That's  just  exactly  what 
makes  'em  so  blamed  libelous,  you  brayln'  wild  ass 
of  the  desert !  The  more  I  look  at  'em,  the  more  they 
look  like  me.  And  yet,  by  the  jumpin'  jingo,  if  I 
resembled  them  pictures  the  way  I  seem  to,  Mrs. 
Todhunter  wouldn't  live  with  me  another  day,  suh ! 
Anyway,  what  business  they  got  cartoonin'  me?  I 
ain't  runnin'  for  no  office.  It's  you  they  ought  to 
cartoon,  if  they've  got  to  cartoon  somebody,  and  you 
know  it  mighty  well,  too,  Bill  Strickland !" 

"Thurs,"  said  Colonel  Strickland,  "I'd  give  any- 
thing in  the  world  if  they  would — that's  the  cold 
truth.  But  they  won't.  I  ain't  in  it  with  you,  my 
friend — you've  made  the  hit  of  your  life.  Why,  sir, 
you're  the  most  famous  man  in  St.  Louis  this  very 
day!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  looked  extremely  dubious, 
however. 

And  the  next  moment  he  found  himself  in  the 
limelight  anew.  The  same  paper,  conceding  afresh 
his  pictorial  and  humorous  possibilities,  cartooned 
him  in  another  pose  as  its  illustration  of  the  weather 
prediction  for  the  day,  presenting  him  as  its  famous 

130 


"weather  bird."  "High  winds  blowing  from  the  di- 
rection of  Nineveh,"  it  gravely  announced.  "Shift- 
ing to-night  to  the  westward,  with  its  storm  center 
at  the  Coliseum.  The  famous  Colonel  Thurs  T. 
Todhunter  will  speak  there,  beginning  at  eight 
sharp.  Increasing  wind  velocity.  Duration  of  gale 
unknown." 

At  this  stage  of  the  proceedings  it  required  the 
combined  arguments  of  Colonel  Bill  Strickland, 
his  St.  Louis  backers,  and  the  entire  headquarters 
staff,  to  keep  Colonel  Todhunter  from  going  on  the 
warpath  in  quest  of  newspaper  scalps  in  general. 
Colonel  Bill,  a  shrewd  veteran  in  knowledge  of 
what  goes  to  win  the  people's  liking,  was  tickled  al- 
most beyond  measure. 

"Old  Thurs  Todhunter's  making  votes  for  our 
side  faster  than  you  could  count  'em,"  he  said  to 
white-haired  Governor  Leslie,  his  political  sponsor 
in  St.  Louis,  who  himself  had  headed  a  brilliant 
Missouri  administration  in  earlier  days.  "These  pa- 
pers have  got  right  at  the  heart  of  him,  and  they're 
showing  him  to  the  people  for  just  the  lovable  old 
Democrat  that  he  is,  too.  It's  a  good  thing  all 
round,  Governor — old-fashioned  Democracy  in  the 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER  OF   MISSOURI 

flesh  is  worth  while  for  the  younger  generation  to 
look  at.  They  need  it,  too." 

The  candidate  and  his  friends  were  finally  suc- 
cessful in  mollifying  Colonel  Todhunter.  But  he 
went  to  his  night's  task  in  anything  but  a  hopeful 
frame  of  mind. 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland,  however,  had  prophesied 
truly.  The  Coliseum  was  packed  to  the  doors. 

"Great  Scott  and  Maria,  suh,"  said  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  describing  the  scene  to  Dick  Cantrill  upon 
his  return  home  later,  "you  couldn't  ha'  wedged  a 
knife-blade  in  between  any  two  men  in  that-there 
crowd,  suh.  And  the  way  they  cheered  and  hollered 
when  I  was  interduced  by  the  chairman  of  the  meet- 
in',  suh!  Blamed  if  you  wouldn't  ha'  thought  I  was 
the  original  roarin'  ring-tailed  guyasticutus  of  Cal- 
averas  County,  suh,  and  the  only  one  in  captivity, 
suh.  I  never  saw  grown  men  behave  that  way  be- 
fore in  all  my  life,  Dick  Cantrill,  and  it  made  me 
hotter'n  blazes.  But  I  kept  my  shirt  on,  suh,  sayin' 
to  myself  that  I  was  there  to  help  old  Bill  Strick- 
land all  I  knew  how.  So  I  just  took  it  out  in  talkin' 
to  'em  like  a  Dutch  uncle,  suh,  givin'  'em  the  straight 
Democratic  doctrine  and  tellin'  'em  they  needed  it 

132 


THE    COLONEL   CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

blamed  bad,  too,  suh.  And  I  laid  the  law  down  to 
'em,  suh,  that  it  wa'n't  me,  but  old  Bill  Strickland, 
they  ought  to  be  a-hollerin'  for  by  rights,  if  they  was 
the  good  Democrats  they  pertended  to  be,  suh.  Yes, 
suh,  and  then  they  hollered  louder'n  ever.  But  let 
me  tell  you  one  thing,  Dick  Cantrill,  I'll  be  shot  full 
o'  holes  if  I  didn't  have  'em  every  one  up  on  their 
hind  legs  a-whoopin'  themselves  black  in  the  face 
for  old  Bill  Strickland  'fore  I  got  through  with  'em, 
suh.  I  tell  you,  Dick,  that-there  Satan-straddled 
newspaper  done  its  durndest  to  ruin  me,  but  I  got 
even  with  it  right  then  and  here,  suhi" 

"Bully  for  you,  Colonel!"  vociferated  Dick  Can- 
trill,  his  humorous  lips  tremulous  with  mirth.  "I'd 
gladly  give  the  last  dollar  I  had  in  the  world  if  I 
could  have  been  there  and  heard  you !" 

But  the  Colonel's  face  fell.  "Dick,"  he  said,  "would 
you  believe  it?  Them-there  infernal  cartoonists 
came  back  at  me  the  next  day  worse'n  ever,  suh. 
They'd  been  there  at  that  meetin'  and  got  me  in  ac- 
tion. I'll  be  eternally  condemned  if  I  ever  saw  such 
pictures  of  a  livin'  human  bein'  as  they  drew  of 'me 
then,  suh.  It  was  a  sin  and  a  shame.  What's  a  man 
goin'  to  do  these  days,  Dick  Cantrill?  I  tell  you, 

133 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER  OF   MISSOURI 

suh,  the  present  frivolity  of  the  American  press  is 
utterly  destroyin'  the  dignity  of  public  life,  suh!" 

"It  is,  Colonel — it  is!"  agreed  the  editor  of  the 
Nineveh  Weekly  Blade  contritely.  And  it  is  to  Dick 
Cantrill's  everlasting  credit  that  he  held  himself  in 
until  Colonel  Todhunter  had  stalked  away.  Then 
he  laughed  as  he  had  not  laughed  in  many  a  day. 

"God  bless  him!"  he  said  to  himself  chokingly. 
"He  and  his  speeches  have  gained  five  thousand  votes 
for  Colonel  Strickland  in  St.  Louis  just  as  sure  as 
the  sun  rises  and  sets !  And  they're  worth  it,  too !" 

But  the  crowning  achievement  of  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter's  visit  to  St.  Louis  was  when,  by  mistake,  he 
marched  upon  the  platform  at  the  biggest  Stephen 
K.  Yancey  mass  meeting  of  the  entire  campaign  and 
delivered  a  ringing  eulogy  of  the  Honorable  William 
J.  Strickland  square  in  the  face  of  the  enemy. 

It  all  arose  from  the  blunder  of  the  Strickland 
headquarters  man  assigned  to  guide  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  to  his  several  speaking  places  on  that  fateful 
night. 

Rival  Strickland  and  Yancey  mass  meetings  were 
being  held  in  the  same  ward  that  night.  The  two 
halls  engaged  by  the  respective  campaign  managers 

134 


THE    COLONEL    CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

were  not  far  apart.  Colonel  Todhunter's  luckless 
guide  got  their  locations  confused.  Not  until  he  fol- 
lowed the  Colonel  in  a  hurried  entrance  upon  the 
speakers'  stage  did  he  realize  his  blunder. 

It  was  too  late. 

An  early  speaker  had  just  concluded  his  presenta- 
tion of  the  Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey's  claims 
for  the  favorable  consideration  of  the  Democratic 
voters  as  Colonel  Todhunter's  tall  and  exceedingly 
dignified  figure  emerged  into  view  from  the  rear  of 
the  stage. 

It  so  happened  that  some  stentorian-voiced  wag  in 
the  audience  recognized  the  Colonel,  and  grasped 
alike  the  humor  of  the  situation  as  it  then  existed 
and  its  possibilities  of  further  development.  This 
unknown  gentleman  promptly  sounded  a  mighty  and 
magnetic  whoop. 

"Todhunter!  Todhunter!  Hooray  for  Colonel 
Todhunter !" 

Now,  it  will  never  be  known  if  what  immediately 
followed  this  joyful  and  enthusiastic  cry  was  due  to 
a  similar  sense  of  humor  possessed  by  others  in  the 
audience,  or  if  it  was  merely  the  natural  result  of 
a  splendid  salutation  falling  upon  the  ears  of  a  multi- 

135 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER  OF   MISSOURI 

tude  waiting  and  wistful  to  be  stirred  by  vociferous 
leadership  into  tumultuous  acclaim.  Whatever  the 
cause,  the  sudden  slogan  from  one  throat  provoked 
a  magnificent  response.  It  was  as  though  the  vast 
gathering  had  been  electrified  into  a  passion  of  vo- 
calized fervor.  Almost  instantly  the  big  hall  echoed 
and  reechoed  with  Colonel  Todhunter's  name. 

"Todhunter !  Hooray  for  Colonel  Todhunter !" 

At  this  psychological  moment  the  original  shouter 
added  a  new  "tag"  to  his  magnificent  salutation. 

"Speech!"  he  roared.  "Speech!  Todhunter! 
Speech!" 

And  again  the  herd  followed  its  leader.  An  over- 
whelming insistance  upon  a  speech  from  Colonel 
Todhunter  rang  and  rang  again  through  the  hall. 

Whereupon  Colonel  Todhunter  yielded. 

Tremendously  pleased,  he  advanced  to  the  front 
of  the  platform,  and,  after  achieving  a  most  impres- 
sive bow  to  the  dum founded  chairman  of  the  meet- 
ing, struck  an  attitude  worthy  of  Daniel  Webster 
or  Henry  Clay  at  their  best.  Thunders  of  applause 
greeted  the  all-competent  pose.  Then  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter spoke. 

136 


THE    COLONEL    CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

"Fellow  Democrats!" 

The  house  fairly  shook  with  cheers. 

Upon  which,  Colonel  Todhunter,  standing  alone 
amidst  the  embattled  cohorts  of  the  Honorable 
Stephen  K.  Yancey,  launched  himself  into  a  fervent 
exposition  of  the  great  and  lasting  benefit  sure  to 
ensue  from  the  nomination  of  the  Honorable  Wil- 
liam J.  Strickland  for  the  high  office  of  governor  of 
the  imperial  commonwealth  of  Missouri.  It  was  a 
superb  effort.  Colonel  Todhunter  in  his  soul  loved 
the  exercise  of  his  old-fashioned  oratorical  gifts 
with  a  passionate  ardor.  He  had  now  been  encour- 
aged to  their  supremest  employment. 

And  he  came  astonishingly  near  completing  his 
panegyric  of  the  shining  Strickland  virtues  before 
the  inevitable  interruption. 

Suddenly,  however,  the  listening  crowd  realized 
what  was  happening.  Blank  amazement  followed 
the  first  shock  of  realization.  Then  came  the  galling 
consciousness  that  somebody  had  played  a  gigantic 
joke  on  the  banner  Yancey  mass  meeting  of  the  pri- 
mary campaign.  Undeniably,  too,  the  audacious 
Todhunter  now  confronting  them  from  their  own 

137 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

tribune  was  a  party  to  the  outrage,  if  not,  indeed,  its 
original  instigator. 

A  surging  howl  of  partizan  rage  arose.  The  roar 
of  infuriated  protest  overwhelmed  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter's  flow  of  eloquence.  So  mighty  and  resistless 
was  it  that  the  Colonel  would  as  well  have  attempted 
to  talk  down  the  fury  of  a  tempest. 

"Slug him!    Throw  him  out!    Kill  him!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  turned  to  the  chairman  of  the 
meeting.  "What's  the  matter,  suh?"  he  asked,  puz- 
zled. "That's  a  mighty  curious  way  for  a  Strickland 
crowd  to  behave,  suh !" 

The  bull-necked  ward  "boss"  whom  he  addressed 
spluttered  and  gasped  apoplectically,  his  eyes  glar- 
ing at  the  speaker.  Colonel  Todhunter  repeated  his 
question. 

And  then — 

"A  Strickland  crowd— hell!"  burst  from  the 
chairman's  lips.  "What's  eatin'  you?  Dis  ain't  no 
Strickland  rally,  you  lobster!  It's  a  Yancey  mass- 
meetin'  of  de  Fourt'  Ward  Democracy — an'  dere 
won't  be  enough  left  of  youse  in  a  minnit  for  your 
frien's  to  bury,  you  damned  stiff!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  stared  at  the  chairman,  hot 
138 


THE    COLONEL   CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

resentment  of  the  words  addressed  to  him  leaping 
into  his  soul.  The  chairman  stared  at  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  instinctively  "sizing  up"  his  indications  of 
fighting  power.  The  crowd  roared  like  so  many 
maddened  bulls. 

And  then  to  the  Colonel's  own  dauntless  mind 
came  a  full  realization  of  the  humor  of  the  situation 
and  its  final  possibilities.  A  smile  crept  to  his  lips. 

"Mr.  Chairman,"  he  said,  bowing  courteously,  "I 
feel,  suh,  that  it  is  incumbent  upon  me  to  tender  to 
you  and  this  here  meetin'  my  profoundest  apologies, 
suh.  I  am  here  by  mistake — my  mistake,  suh — 
and  I  apologize !" 

Then  he  turned  and  calmly  faced  his  direfully 
threatening  audience.  He  had  been  seen  to  salute 
the  chairman  of  the  meeting  with  elaborate  polite- 
ness. His  own  cool  demeanor  made  its  certain  im- 
pression upon  the  crowd.  When  he  lifted  one  hand 
impressively  the  gesture  commanded  silence. 

"My  friends  and  fellow-citizens — and  also  fel- 
low-Democrats," said  Colonel  Todhunter,  entirely 
unruffled,  "I  have  taken  up  your  valuable  time  with- 
out proper  warrant  I  have  no  business  here.  I 
know  it  better'n  you-all  do.  You  are  Yancey  Dem- 

139 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

ocrats,  and  I'm  a  dyed-in-the-wool  Strickland  Dem- 
ocrat. I  apologize  to  you  for  intrudin'  upon  your 
meetin'  by  mistake,  my  hearers !" 

A  little  hush  followed. 

At  its  most  impressive  moment  of  absolute  silence 
Colonel  Todhunter's  humorous  lips  parted  in  the 
most  engaging  smile  of  unconcealed  amusement. 

"But,  my  friends,"  he  resumed,  "nothin'  is  per- 
mitted to  happen  in  this-here  world  of  our'n  without 
a  wise  intention  on  the  part  of  its  Creator.  He 
moves  in  a  mysterious  way  His  wonders  to  perform, 
a  sacred  poet  tells  us,  and  I  believe  it,  my  fellow-citi- 
zens. It  wouldn't  surprise  me  the  least  bit,  my  hear- 
ers, but  what  I  was  brought  here  by  seeming  accident 
to  show  you-all  the  error  of  your  ways.  While  the 
light  holds  out  to  burn  the  vilest  sinner  may  return 
— and  I  invite  every  last  one  of  you  Yancey  men  to 
consider  thoughtfully  what  I've  just  been  a-sayin' 
about  my  old  friend,  Bill  Strickland,  and — " 

A  deafening  storm  of  partizan  rage  burst  all 
bounds  at  this  moment.  Colonel  Todhunter's  guide 
laid  a  swift  hand  upon  his  collar  and  dragged  him 
breathlessly  to  the  rear  of  the  stage.  At  a  full  run 
he  was  directed  out  through  the  wings.  A  door 

140 


THE    COLONEL    CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

opening  into  a  back  alley  was  broken  through  by  the 
guide's  body,  used  as  a  catapult.  The  Colonel  felt 
the  fresh  night  air  smite  him  in  the  face. 

"Now  we've  got  to  sprint  for  it!"  gasped  the 
guide.  "You  follow  me,  and  put  en  all  the  speed 
you  got  in  you.  They  won't  do  a  thing  but  massacre 
us  if  we  don't  make  our  get-away  quicker'n  a  streak 
o'  lightning!" 

Five  minutes  later  Colonel  Thurs  T.  Todhunter 
gained  the  stage  of  the  Strickland  mass  meeting  to 
which  he  had  originally  been  billeted.  He  was  some- 
what scant  of  breath,  but  otherwise  ready  for  the 
service  of  the  evening. 

"I've  been  tryin'  to  convert  the  heathen!"  he 
whispered,  chuckling  to  old  Governor  Leslie,  chair- 
man of  the  meeting.  "Over  yonder  on  the  corner 
at  that  four-flush  Yancey  rally,  suh.  It  was  a  close 
shave.  But  I  sowed  some  seeds,  suh — I  shorely 
sowed  some  seeds !" 

The  next  day  the  front  page  of  every  St.  Louis 
newspaper  blazed  with  the  side-splitting  story  of 
Colonel  Todhunter's  unique  political  exploit.  The 
joke  was  on  the  Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey  and 
his  St.  Louis  following  and  the  whole  town  roared 

141 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

over  the  fun  of  the  story.  Colonel  Todhunter  was 
the  hero  of  the  day. 

"I'm  mighty  glad  to-night  finds  me  back  in  Nine- 
veh, suh,"  he  remarked  to  Colonel  Bill  Strickland 
earnestly.  "I've  pawed  up  the  earth  here  in  St. 
Louis  worse'n  a  yearlin'  bull  in  springtime,  suh. 
Blamed  if  I  don't  seem  to  have  raised  such  a  dust 
that  none  of  us  knows  just  where  we're  at.  I  told 
you  I  had  no  business  comin'  here,  Bill  Strickland !" 

The  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland  did  his  best 
to  straighten  his  face  into  soberness.  But  his  lips 
were  tremulous  with  a  grin  of  pure  delight  when  he 
spoke. 

"That's  all  right,  Thurs,"  he  replied.  "You've 
done  wonders  on  your  watch" — and  here  he  shook 
with  laughter  in  spite  of  himself.  "We'll  want  you 
here  again,  before  the  campaign  closes,  my  friend." 

"You  won't  get  me,  Bill,"  answered  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  grimly.  "I  ain't  no  hog — I  know  when  I've 
got  enough.  This  here  St.  Louis  shivaree  has  about 
done  me  plumb  up,  suh.  I-gad,  suh,  the  only  satis- 
factory seances  I've  had  here  was  with  old  Randolph 
Carter,  and  that  St.  Louis  chief  of  police  I  met  yis- 
terday.  I  laid  the  law  down  to  old  Randolph  Car- 

142 


THE    COLONEL   CUTS    A    WIDE    SWATH 

ter  for  trainin'  with  the  Yancey  crowd  that's  lay  in' 
their  plots  to  cheat  you  out  o'  the  St.  Louis  vote,  and 
I  made  him  ashamed  of  himself,  suh.  And  when  I 
found  out  that  this-here  Chief  Stacey  is  an  old  No'th 
Ca'lina  veteran  of  the  Confederacy,  suh,  I  done  like- 
wise with  him,  too!" 

Then  the  speaker  chuckled. 

"I  shorely  did  talk  straight  to  both  of  'em,  suh," 
he  resumed.  "I  made  old  Ran  Carter  feel  so  cheap 
that  he  stuck  his  long  nose  down  into  his  mint 
julep  and  told  me  he'd  break  my  neck  if  I  didn't  hush 
my  mouth,  suh.  And  old  Chief  Stacey — well,  he's 
white,  clear  through,  and  if  he  could  only  get  half 
a  chance  I'd  bet  the  last  button  on  Gabe's  coat  he'd 
run  his  police  force  the  way  it  ought  to  be  run,  suh, 
'stead  o'  bein'  a  part  of  the  Yancey  machine,  suh!" 

That  same  night  found  Colonel  Todhunter  back  in 
Nineveh.  "And  thank  the  Good  Marster  up  above, 
Mary!"  he  said  to  Mrs.  Todhunter  fervently.  "I'm 
shorely  glad  to  get  home.  I  been  playin'  the  wild  in 
St.  Louis.  My  one  comfort  is  that  I  told  Bill  Strick- 
land exactly  how  it'd  be.  He's  got  himself  to  thank 
for  persuadin'  me  to  go  there." 

"Why,  Colonel  Todhunter!"  cried  Mrs.  Tod- 
143 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

hunter.  "You  can't  fool  me,  talking  that  way!  I 
saw  all  the  St.  Louis  papers  as  fast  as  they  got  to 
Nineveh,  and  they  every  one  said  you  just  covered 
yourself  with  glory." 

An  alarmed  look  came  into  Colonel  Todhunter's 
face.  "Mary,"  he  asked,  "did  you  see  them  car- 
toons?" 

Mrs.  Todhunter  laughed  outright.  "I  couldn't 
help  seein'  'em,  Colonel  Todhunter!  My  goodness 
me !  Ain't  it  wonderful,  what  likenesses  those  news- 
paper artists  can  make,  just  looking  at  a  person?" 

Colonel  Todhunter  gazed  at  the  speaker  ruefully. 
Then  he  shook  his  head.  "That  beats  the  Dutch !" 
he  murmured  sadly.  "And  yet  they  say  a  man's 
wife'll  stand  by  him  when  he  ain't  got  another  friend 
left  in  the  world !" 


144 


CHAPTER  X 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  AIDS  AND  ABETS  A  YOUNG 
LOCHINVAR 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  was  luxuriously 
bathing  his  soul  in  the  soothing  balm  of  coun- 
try life  when  Sim  Birdsong  emerged  into  view  and 
hurried  up  the  flower-bordered  walk  to  the  Tod- 
hunter  homestead.  The  Colonel  himself  was  seated 
in  his  big  cane  easy-chair  on  the  wide  gallery,  sev- 
eral Missouri  newspapers  on  the  table  beside  him  and 
one  already  held  open  in  his  hand.  Mrs.  Todhunter 
had  gone  into  town  on  some  housewifely  errand. 

"Howdy,  Colonel !"  Sim  saluted  the  returned  cam- 
paigner. "I  must  say  that  politics  seems  to  agree 
with  you,  suh.  You're  looking  as  peart  as  a  two- 
year-old  after  your  St.  Louis  frolic !" 

The  Colonel  grunted.  "If  I  am,  Sim,"  he  replied, 
"I  reckon  it's  because  I  must  be  so  natcherly  no- 
'count  that  I  ain't  worth  killin',  suh.  I've  certainly 
gone  through  enough  since  I  been  away  from  Nin- 
eveh to  lay  any  ordinary  man  out  cold  and  stiff. 

145 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

City  politics  is  a  mighty  swift  proposition,  Sim 
Birdsong,  lemme  tell  you  that  for  keeps.  But  how 
did  you  know  I'd  got  back  home  ?" 

"I  happened  to  meet  Mrs.  Todhunter  in  town,  suh, 
and  she  told  me  you  showed  up  last  night,"  answered 
Sim. 

Then  he  sat  silent,  gazing  at  the  Colonel  specu- 
latively.  At  last  he  spoke. 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  said,  clearing  his  throat 
nervously,  "I'm  a-goin'  to  do  it,  suh." 

The  Colonel  laid  down  his  paper.  "You're  a-goin' 
to  do  what,  Sim?"  he  asked  blankly. 

"Why,  Colonel!"  remonstrated  Sim  Birdsong. 
"You  shorely  ain't  forgot  the  advice  you,  yourself, 
give  me,  have  you,  suh  ?" 

"Sim,"  responded  the  colonel,  perplexed,  "I 
reckon  I  been  givin'  so  blamed  much  advice  here 
lately  that  I've  lost  hold  on  some  o'  the  loose  ends, 
maybe.  What  was  it  I  was  advisin'  you  about  in 
particular,  my  boy  ?" 

Something  like  chagrin  showed  in  Sim's  surprised 
face.  "Why,  suh,"  he  spoke  rebukingly,  "it  was 
about  Miss  Angelica  Exall,  suh.  You  shorely  re- 
member the  very  important  talk  you  and  me  had 

146 


A    YOUNG    LOCHINVAR 

about  Miss  Angelica  and  her  ma,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  ?" 

The  Colonel's  face  lightened.  "To  be  sure — to  be 
sure,  Sim!  Now  I  remember  perfectly.  You  was 
a-tellin'  me,  suh,  that  old  Mrs.  Exall's  attitude 
to'ards  you  gave  mighty  little  hope  o'  your  ever  win- 
nin'  Miss  Angelica's  heart  and  hand." 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  said  Sim  proudly,  "that 
wa'n't  quite  it,  suh.  I  have  already  won  Miss  An- 
gelica's heart,  suh — and  the  very  essence  of  our 
talk,  Colonel,  was  about  the  ways  and  means  of  win- 
nin'  her  hand  as  well,  suh." 

"O— it  was,  eh?" 

"Yes,  suh,  it  was.  It  was  your  advice  to  me, 
Colonel  Todhunter,  to  run  off  with  Miss  Angelica 
Exall,  suh,  if  I  found  out  beyond  the  peradventure 
of  a  doubt  that  her  ma  wouldn't  never  consent  to 
our  bein'  married,  suh." 

Colonel  Todhunter  looked  at  Sim  Birdsong  ju- 
dicially. "Have  you  found  that  out,  Sim?" 

"Colonel,"  was  the  other's  dejected  reply,  "if  I 
was  to  live  to  be  as  old  as  Methuselah,  suh,  I  couldn't 
never  hope  to  get  that  old  lady's  consent,  suh.  She 
told  me  so  herself,  flat-footed,  in  about  as  p'inted 

147 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

language  as  I  ever  hear  in  all  my  life,  suh.  And  she 
added  that  even  if  I  did  live  as  long  as  old  Methuse- 
lah, and  there  wa'n't  another  man  left  in  all  the 
world,  suh,  she'd  prevent  my  marryin'  Miss  Angelica 
if  she  had  to  come  back  from  her  grave  and  ha'nt  me 
to  keep  me  from  doin'  it,  suh !" 

"Sim,"  asked  Colonel  Todhunter,  "old  Mrs.  Ex- 
all's  worst  objection  to  you  is  that  you  ain't  as  well 
off  as  Pohter  Scruggs,  ain't  it?" 

"It  is,  suh.  If  I  had  Pohter  Scruggs'  money  and 
land,  Colonel,  and  he  didn't  have  any  more'n  what 
I've  got  now,  I'd  be  the  one  in  that  old  lady's  good 
graces,  suh." 

"And  it's  true,  as  you  say,  that  Miss  Angelica  loves 
you  dearly,  and  that  you  love  her  in  the  same  way, 
suh?" 

"That  shorely  is  the  truth,  Colonel  Todhunter.  I 
love  Miss  Angelica  with  all  my  heart  and  all  my 
soul,  and,  thank  the  good  Lord,  suh,  she  says  that's 
just  the  way  she  loves  me." 

"But  her  mother  is  willing  to  marry  her  off  to 
Pohter  Scruggs  just  for  the  sake  of  his  money  and 
land  ?  She'll  do  this  and  make  the  girl  unhappy  for 
life  if  you  don't  save  her  by  runnin'  away  with  her?" 

148 


A   YOUNG   LOCHINVAR 

"Colonel  Todhunter,  that's  what's  a-goin*  to  hap- 
pen just  as  sure  as  you'n  me's  a-sittin'  here  lookin' 
each  other  in  the  face  this  minute,  if  I  don't  per- 
vent  it  in  some  such  a  way  as  you  have  just  indicated, 
suh." 

"And  you've  faced  old  Mrs.  Exall  again  and  asked 
her  the  second  time  for  Miss  Angelica,  tellin'  her 
that  the  girl  herself  said  she  loved  you?"  inquired  the 
Colonel. 

"I  have,  suh.  And  that  old  lady  come  mighty  nigh 
skeerin'  me  out  of  seven  years'  growth  when  I  done 
it,  suh.  But  I  done  it  all  the  same,  precisely  as  you 
told  me  to  do  it,  suh." 

"And  now  you  feel  sure  in  your  own  mind,  and 
for  all  time,  that  you  can't  never  persuade  old  Mrs. 
Exall  to  give  Miss  Angelica  to  you  ?" 

"Colonel  Todhunter,  it's  as  certain  as  the  law  of 
the  Medes  and  the  Persians,  suh.  Miss  Angelica's 
ma  took  particular  pains  to  convince  me  of  this  fact, 
suh.  And,  finally,  she  declared  that  she'd  scratch 
my  eyes  out  if  I  ever  pestered  her  on  that  subject 
again,  suh." 

Colonel  Todhunter  straightened  up.  "Then,  Sim," 
he  spoke,  the  light  of  a  clear  conscience  in  his  eyes, 

149 


"the  sooner  you  run  off  with  Miss  Angelica  and 
marry  her,  the  better  for  both  of  you,  suh." 

"That's  exactly  what  I've  come  now  to  tell  you, 
suh!"  cried  Sim  Birdsong  jubilantly.  "I'm  a-goin' 
to  run  off  with  Miss  Angelica  this  very  night,  Colo- 
nel Todhunter.  And  we  want  you  to  help  us,  suh !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  gasped, 

"You  want  me  to  help  you  ?"  he  repeated  weakly. 
"Why,  Sim,  what  in  blue  blazes — why,  suh,  it's  you 
that's  got  to  run  off  with  Miss  Angelica,  not  me !" 

"I  know  that,  Colonel,"  agreed  Sim.  "But  Miss 
Angelica's  powerful  skeery,  suh,  and  she  feels  the 
need  of  your  moral  support  and  countenance  while 
we're  a-doin'  it,  suh.  She  knows  how  you  feel  about 
it,  Colonel.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  suh,  she  says  she 
won't  marry  me  the  way  we  got  to  be  married,  'less'n 
you  and  Mrs.  Todhunter  are  present  at  the  cere- 
mony, suh!" 

The  colonel  saw  a  ray  of  hope.  "Sim,"  he  said, 
"I'm  mighty  doubtful  about  bein'  able  to  ring  Mrs. 
Todhunter  in  on  this  thing.  I  been  advisin'  you  ac- 
cordin'  to  my  own  poor  lights,  and  I  ain't  consulted 
Mrs.  Todhunter  on  the  subject  at  all,  suh.  I'm 

150 


A   YOUNG   LOCHINVAR 

afraid  she  won't  see  it  in  the  same  way  we  do,  Sim. 
She's  mighty  likely  to  take  old  Mrs.  Exall's  view  of 
the  matter,  so  far  as  runnin'  away  with  a  daughter 
is  concerned.  Women  are  mighty  curious  about 
these  things,  suh." 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  spoke  Sim  Birdsong  craft- 
ily, "Mrs.  Todhunter  don't  need  to  know  a  thing 
about  what's  goin'  on  till  it's  t©o  late  for  her  to 
back  out,  suh !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  glared  at  the  speaker.  "You 
young  scoundrel,  you!  You  and  Miss  Angelica 
have  got  this  thing  all  cut  and  dried  between  you. 
'Fess  up,  Sim  Birdsong — what's  the  plot  you've  de- 
vised and  contrived  for  the  whole  blamed  proceedin', 
suh?" 

An  apologetic  grin  relieved  the  apprehension 
which  had  until  now  rested  upon  Sim  Birdsong's 
countenance. 

"Colonel,"  he  replied,  "I'm  a-goin'  to  tell  you  the 
whole  truth.  I've  done  seen  the  Reverend  Mr.  Lips- 
combe,  suh.  He  knows  just  what  the  situation  is, 
suh.  He's  willin'  to 'marry  us  as  a  runaway  couple, 
knowin'  we're  both  of  age.  He's  a-goin'  to  invite 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

you  and  Mrs.  Todhunter  and  Miss  Mary  over  to  sup- 
per this  evenin',  suh.  Then,  suh,  it'll  all  happen  be- 
fore you  can  bat  an  eye.  And  Mrs.  Todhunter 
needn't  never  know  but  what  you  and  her  and  Miss 
Mary  just  happened  to  be  at  Mr.  Lipscombe's  house 
that  night  by  pure  accident,  suh !" 

Frank  admiration  shone  in  Colonel  Todhunter's 
eyes.  "Sim  Birdsong,"  he  spoke,  "you're  a  heap- 
sight  smarter  man  than  I  gave  you  credit  for  bein', 
suh,  'spite  o'  your  havin'  made  such  a  bungle  of  the 
Spanish  War,  suh !  I  ain't  got  the  heart  to  fail  you 
now,  Sim — and  I'll  handle  Mrs.  Todhunter  the  best 
way  I  know  how,  too !" 

Profound  gratitude  was  in  Sim  Birdsong's  face. 
"I  knew  you'd  do  it,  Colonel!"  he  exclaimed,  heav- 
ing a  sigh  of  relief.  "And  you'll  never  know  all  it 
means  to  me,  suh.  I  got  to  get  Miss  Angelica  Exall, 
suh.  If  I  don't,  suh,  this  world  is  but  a  fleetin'  show, 
and  I  don't  care,  for  one,  how  soon  the  show  closes, 
suh." 

Colonel  Todhunter  shook  with  amusement.  "If 
that's  the  way  you  feel  about  it,  Sim,"  he  chuckled, 
"you  certainly  can't  afford  to  take  no  chances  on 
losin'  her.  You  shorely  do  need  a  preacher  as  soon 

152 


as  you  can  get  him,  suh — there  ain't  no  two  ways 
about  that !" 

All  of  which  accounts  for  the  fact  that  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  and  Mary  and  the  Colonel  were  the  guests 
of  the  Lipscombes  at  supper  that  same  evening.  This 
was  not  by  any  means  the  first  time  such  a  thing  had 
happened,  and  the  minister  and  his  wife  were  fre- 
quent guests  of  the  Todhunters.  The  Colonel,  there- 
fore, met  with  no  difficulty  in  "tolling"  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  into  the  trap  set  for  her. 

Nevertheless,  being  a  man  of  honest  soul,  Colonel 
Todhunter  looked  guilty  when,  soon  after  supper, 
there  came  a  knock  at  the  front  door  and  the  Rev- 
erend Mr.  Lipscombe  was  summoned  to  his  study. 
Fortunately,  however,  Mrs.  Todhunter  was  entirely 
unsuspicious  and  the  Colonel's  uneasy  conscience 
revealed  itself  in  his  facial  expression  without  ex- 
citing her  attention. 

The  minister  was  gone  for  ten  minutes  or  more. 
When  he  returned  there  was  a  smile  on  his  lips. 

"It's  Sim  Birdsong  and  Miss  Angelica  Exall,"  he 
said.  "They  want  me  to  marry  them." 

To  the  preacher's  wife  an  announcement  of  this 
nature  had  ceased  to  be  a  novelty.  But  Mrs.  Tod- 

153 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

hunter  was  aroused  to  instant  and  absorbing  interest, 
and  Mary  was  vastly  excited. 

"It's  a  runaway  wedding!"  Mrs.  Todhunter  ex- 
claimed, every  fiber  of  her  sentimental  being  re- 
sponding to  the  appeal  of  romance.  "Just  as  sure 
as  we're  sitting  here,  they've  eloped !" 

The  Reverend  Mr.  Lipscombe  nodded. 

"That  is  true,  Mrs.  Todhunter,"  he  replied.  "And 
I  have  consented  to  perform  the  ceremony.  I  feel 
that  it  is  right  for  me  to  do  so.  They  are  a  good  and 
worthy  young  couple,  they  love  each  other,  they 
are  both  of  age,  and  I  know  that  the  girl's  mother  is 
trying  to  marry  her  to  a  richer  man  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  she  loves  Sim  Birdsong  instead.  Under 
the  circumstances,  I  would  not  feel  justified  in  re- 
fusing to  marry  them." 

Then,  after  a  moment's  silence,  "And  now,  Colo- 
nel and  Mrs.  Todhunter,"  he  resumed,  "I  want  to 
ask  you  to  act  as  witnesses  to  the  wedding.  It  will 
greatly  please  the  young  couple,  and  I  told  them  I 
felt  sure  you  would  consent  to  do  so.  I  hope  you  are 
both  willing,  and  I  shall  be  very  much  obliged." 

Mrs.  Todhunter  became  suddenly  flustered.  "I 
don't  know  just  what  to  do,"  she  wavered.  "Not 

154 


A   YOUNG   LOCHINVAR 

that  I  disapprove  of  what  Sim  and  Angelica  are  do- 
ing under  the  circumstances,  but  mothers  are  mighty 
resentful,  Mr.  Lipscombe!  I  wouldn't  thank  any 
woman  for  helping  my  own  daughter,  Mary,  to  elope 
with  a  young  man  I  didn't  like,  and  I  know  Mrs. 
Exall  won't  thank  me,  either." 

"Mary,"  remarked  Colonel  Todhunter  casually, 
"you  ain't  a-helpin'  these  young  folks  to  elope. 
They've  already  eloped.  They're  a-goin'  to  get  mar- 
ried whether  you  see  'em  or  not.  All  that  Mr.  Lips- 
combe  asks  is  that  you'll  witness  the  ceremony.  I'd 
do  it,  if  I  was  you.  It  may  help  poor  little  Miss 
Angelica  to  keep  her  courage  up  and  feel  a  bit  cheer- 
ful, Mary." 

This  was  a  plausible  argument.  Mrs.  Todhunter 
beamed  on  the  Colonel.  In  reality,  there  was  noth- 
ing she  more  dearly  loved  than  helping  young  people 
to  get  married. 

"Well,  now,  that  certainly  is  the  truth,  Colonel 
Todhunter!"  she  cried.  "We  didn't  know  a  thing 
about  it  till  this  blessed  minute,  did  we?  And  it 
ain't  our  fault  that  we  happened  to  be  here  at  this 
precise  moment,  either.  It  does  seem  to  me  it 
wouldn't  be  just  right  to  refuse — and  I  do  feel  I 

155 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

ought  to  help  'em,  now  that  they've  gone  this  far. 
The  poor  things !" 

Whereupon  the  Reverend  Mr.  Lipscombe,  Mrs. 
Lipscombe,  Colonel  Todhunter  and  Mrs.  Todhunter 
and  Mary  marched  to  the  relief  of  Sim  Birdsong 
and  Miss  Angelica  Exall.  They  found  the  young 
couple,  dismally  frightened,  perched  very  close 
together  on  one  of  Mrs.  Lipscombe's  old-fashioned 
horsehair  sofas.  Something  like  a  look  of  dazed  rec- 
ognition came  into  Sim's  panic-stricken  eyes  as  they 
rested  upon  Colonel  Todhunter's  familiar  face,  and 
he  essayed  to  smile  gratefully,  but  the  smile  was 
appalling  in  its  unlikeness  to  any  ordinary  human 
effort  in  that  direction.  As  for  Miss  Angelica  Exall, 
she  was  pathetic  in  her  fright  and  frustration.  Mrs. 
Todhunter's  motherly  heart  melted  at  the  sight  of 
her  and  she  went  straightway  and  took  the  girl  in 
her  arms. 

"Don't  you  be  scared,  honey,"  she  said  soothingly. 
"It  ain't  half  as  bad  as  it  seems  to  you  now,  and  I'm 
sure  Sim's  going  to  make  you  a  good  husband !" 

Mrs.  Lipscombe  was  patting  the  runaway  bride 
on  her  other  shoulder,  her  sweet  eyes  shining  with 
womanly  comprehension.  Mary  Todhunter  drew 

156 


A   YOUNG   LOCHINVAR 

close  to  her  girl  friend.  Sim  Birdsong,  seeing  the 
women  ministering  to  his  sweetheart,  opened  his 
mouth  to  voice  manful  thanks,  but  was  utterly  un- 
equal to  the  task.  He  licked  his  stiffening  lips,  in- 
stead, a  truly  pitiful  spectacle. 

Happily,  however,  the  minister  came  to  the  res- 
cue. "My  dear  young  friends,"  he  said,  "I  have  al- 
ready spoken  with  you  of  the  gravity  of  the  step  you 
are  about  to  take,  and  it  has  pleased  me  to  see  that 
you  contemplate  its  meaning  in  a  proper  spirit.  The 
ceremony  will  now  be  performed,  since  the  necessary 
witnesses  are  present." 

The  runaway  couple  arose  and  stood  before  the 
minister.  In  what  for  ever  after  seemed  to  them  an 
incredibly  short  time  they  were  made  husband  and 
wife.  The  Reverend  Mr.  Lipscombe  and  Colonel 
Todhunter  both  shook  hands  heartily  with  Sim  Bird- 
song  and  claimed  a  kiss  from  the  bride.  Their  wives, 
tremendously  moved,  insisted  upon  giving  Sim  him- 
self a  motherly  kiss  each,  after  which  they  again 
sustained  the  spirits  of  the  bride.  Mary  Todhunter, 
too,  joined  in  the  work  of  comforting  her. 

That  is,  they  essayed  to  do  this  in  all  sincerity,  but 
by  this  time  all  three  were  weeping,  and,  at  sight  of 

157 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

their  tears,  the  newly  made  Mrs.  Birdsong  fell  vic- 
tim to  a  sudden  and  dreadful  homesickness  for  her 
own  mother. 

"Somebody's  got  to  tell  her  this  very  night !"  she 
cried  piteously.  "I  can't  bear  to  think  of  her  being 
there  all  alone,  the  way  I  left  her!  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  won't  you  go  and  tell  ma  that  I've  been  mar- 
ried to  Sim  and  that  I  ask  her  forgiveness  for  run- 
ning away  to  do  it?  I  know  you'll  do  it,  Colonel. 
You've  been  so  good  to  me  and  Sim,  planning  this 
whole  thing  out  for  us  and  being  the  first  to  advise 
Sim  to  run  away  with  me !" 

Colonel  Todhunter's  blood  went  cold  in  his  veins. 
He  felt  Mrs.  Todhunter's  accusing  eyes  upon  him. 

"Why,  Miss  Angelica — er — I  mean  Mrs.  Bird- 
song!"  he  gasped.  "I — I  reckon  I  done  gone  about 
far  enough — I — er — well,  I'm  afeard — I'm  afeard 
your  ma  may  not  like  it  the  least  bit  if  I  go  to  her  so 
sudden-like  with  the  news,  Miss  Angelica !" 

At  this  the  bride  wept  afresh.  "Oh,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter!"  she  wailed.  "You  surely  ought  to  do  it 
for  me!  I  never  would  have  run  away  with  Sim  if 
it  hadn't  been  for  you.  I  think  you  might,  Colonel 
Todhunter — ma'll  be  so  lonesome  if  you  don't!" 

158 


A   YOUNG   LOCHINVAR 

Into  Mrs.  Todhunter's  eyes  came  the  light  of 
justice.  Also  a  gleam  of  faintly  humorous  apprecia- 
tion of  Colonel  Todhunter's  plight.  The  Colonel's  in- 
corrigible sentimentalism  was  plainly  responsible  for 
this  elopement.  It  was  also  destined,  later,  to  give 
her  a  bad  half-hour  with  Mrs.  Exall.  It  would 
serve  the  Colonel  right  to  make  him  pay  this  de- 
manded penalty  for  his  share  in  the  runaway  wed- 
ding. 

"Angelica  is  justified  in  asking  you  to  do  this  for 
her,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  she  spoke  firmly.  "You 
can't  refuse  to  do  as  she  asks,  and  you  mustn't  think 
of  such  a  thing!" 

The  Colonel  stood  aghast.  "Mary !"  he  protested. 
"I— I— well,  I  just  can't,  that's  all  there  is  to  it! 
I'll  just  be  jiggered  if  I  can!" 

But  he  was  doomed.  The  bride  clung  to  him  be- 
seechingly. Mrs.  Todhunter's  voice  was  against  him. 
The  Reverend  Mr.  Lipscombe  and  Mrs.  Lipscombe 
seemed  to  look  at  him  with  nominating  eyes.  Even 
Mary  was  plainly  of  their  opinion.  Mournfully  the 
Colonel  bowed  to  the  inevitable.  Mrs.  Todhunter 
accompanied  him  to  the  door. 

"Mary,"  he  said,  "you'll  be  sorry  if  anything  hap- 
159 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

pens  to  me.  I'll  come  back  here  to  tell  Miss  An- 
gelica the  result,  and  to  take  you  and  Mary  home 
if  there's  anything  left  of  me,  but  I  give  you  fair 
warning,  Mrs.  Todhunter.  You're  a-sendin'  your 
husband  on  a  mighty  dangerous  errand,  ma'am!" 

Mrs.  Todhunter's  reception  of  this  foreboding 
speech  was  the  severest  blow  yet  received  by  the 
Colonel.  She  laughed  in  his  face.  "It  serves  you 
right !"  she  said. 

And  the  Colonel  went  into  the  outer  darkness. 


160 


CHAPTER  XI 

AND   PAYS   A   TERRIFYING   PRICE   FOR   SO   DOING 

HAVING  accepted  a  perilous  mission,  the 
Colonel  was  too  soldierly  of  soul  to  think  of 
shirking  his  duty.  He  made  his  way  manfully  to- 
ward the  enemy,  although  in  a  state  of  unmitigated 
panic. 

"I  ain't  never  had  much  use  for  a  man  that  needed 
Dutch  courage,"  he  said  to  himself  ruefully,  "but  I'd 
give  a  dollar  for  a  stiff  horn  of  whisky  right  now. 
And  if  it  hadn't  been  a  preacher's  house  I  was  at, 
I'll  be  shot  full  o'  holes  if  I  wouldn't  have  asked  for 
one  before  startin'  out  on  this  Tom  Fool  business, 
too.  I'll  tell  the  truth  and  shame  the  devil !" 

Unfortified,  however,  he  knocked  at  Mrs.  Exall's 
door,  feeling  much  like  a  criminal  about  to  listen  to 
his  rightful  condemnation  for  sin.  At  first  there 
was  no  response.  The  little  cottage  seemed  very 
dark  and  still.  Finally,  however,  a  light  gleamed 
and  the  Colonel  heard  approaching  footsteps  in  the 
hall.  Then  the  front  door  was  opened  on  the  crack. 

161 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Who's  there  ?"  came  an  apprehensive  voice. 

The  Colonel  gulped  nervously.  "It's  me,  Mrs. 
Exall — Colonel  Todhunter !"  he  made  answer.  Sud- 
denly he  felt  very  crestfallen  and  shamed.  The 
voice  of  the  lonely  widow,  waiting  for  her  daughter, 
rebuked  him.  The  door  was  thrown  open.  Mrs.  Ex- 
all  stood  framed  in  its  lighted  square,  a  keen- faced 
little  woman,  spare  of  figure,  sandy-gray  of  hair, 
with  a  querulous,  thinly  curved  nose,  straight  and 
tightly  gripped  lips,  faint  blue  eyes  with  just  a  sug- 
gestion of  peppery  glint  in  their  cold  depths.  The 
eyes  surveyed  him  curiously. 

"Why,  Colonel  Todhunter!"  their  owner  ex- 
claimed. "Whatever  in  the  world  is  the  matter? 
But  come  in — I  do  hope  Mrs.  Todhunter  ain't  sick?" 

The  Colonel  entered,  abandoning  hope.  "No, 
ma'am,"  he  replied,  feeling  himself  flush  guiltily, 
"Mrs.  Todhunter's  very  well,  I  thank  you,  ma'am." 

By  this  time  they  were  in  the  little  parlor. 

"Take  a  seat,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  said  the  widow. 
A  deep  surmise  was  in  her  eyes.  "I'm  certainly  glad 
there  ain't  anything  wrong  with  Mrs.  Todhunter — 

Then,  suddenly,  she  clasped  her  hands  together. 

"It's  Angelica!"  she  cried.  "Something's  hap- 
162 


A   TERRIFYING    PRICE 

pened  to  her.  That's  why  you're  here!  Oh,  Colo- 
nel Todhunter,  tell  me!  It's  something  dreadful 
that's  happened  to  Angelica !" 

A  mountain's  weight  of  self-accusation  fell  upon 
Colonel  Todhunter's  gray  head.  Remorseful  be- 
yond measure,  he  stood  mute  for  a  moment.  Then, 
desperately,  he  blurted  out  the  truth. 

"Mrs.  Exall,"  he  said,  "it's  about  Miss  Angelica 
— but  it  ain't  nothin'  dreadful,  ma'am.  She  asked 
me  to  come  and  tell  you  about  it.  She's — she's  just 
been  married,  ma'am.  Yes'm,  Miss  Angelica's  gone 
and  got  married !" 

Vainly  did  Colonel  Todhunter  strive  to  sound 
a  joyous  note  in  this  announcement.  His  voice  was 
as  if  it  came  from  the  tombs.  The  eagle-faced,  for- 
midable little  woman  confronting  him  froze  into 
a  sardonic  statue  at  his  words.  A  cold  suspicion 
leaped  into  her  eyes. 

"Angelica's  run  off  and  married  that  triflin'  Sim 
Birdsong,"  she  spoke,  her  tone  ominous.  "She's 
just  fool  enough  to  do  it,  shuttin'  her  eyes  to  a  better 
chance.  That's  it,  ain't  it,  Colonel  Todhunter?" 

The  colonel  swallowed.  "Yes'm,  she's  married 
Sim  Birdsong,"  he  confessed.  "But — maybe  it's  all 

163 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

for  the  best,  Mrs.  Exall.  Young  folks  sometimes 
see  clearer  than  us  old  folks,  ma'am." 

Mrs.  Exall  bridled  perceptibly.  "I  may  be  old  and 
I  may  not,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  she  retorted  icily. 
"But  it  ain't  for  you  to  remind  me  of  it  if  I  am. 
However,  that's  neither  here  nor  there.  It's  my 
poor,  misguided  daughter  I'm  thinkin'  of  now.  Tell 
me,  sir,  where  they  were  married,  and  who  married 
them?" 

The  abrupt  question  startled  the  Colonel.  "Why, 
ma'am — why,  Mrs.  Exall,"  he  stammered.  "Where 
— who — why — of  course,  yes,  ma'am!  They — they 
were  married  at  the  preacher's  own  house,  Mrs. 
Exall,  and  the  Reverend  Mr.  Lipscombe,  he — yes'm, 
Mr.  Lipscombe  himself  married  'em,  ma'am!" 

Mrs.  Exall's  steely  eyes  gimleted  the  speaker. 
"How  does  it  happen,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  she 
asked,  "that  it's  you  who  comes  to  me  with  this 
news  ?" 

Colonel  Todhunter  felt  his  blood  running  chill. 
"Me?"  he  repeated.  "How  do  I — why,  Mrs.  Exall, 
it  just  so  happened.  I  was — well,  me  and  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter and  Mary  just  happened  to  be  spendin'  the 
evenin'  with  Mr  and  Mrs.  Lipscombe  when — when 

164 


A   TERRIFYING    PRICE 

Sim  and  Miss  Angelica  came  there  to  get  married, 
ma'am!" 

Mrs.  Exall  sniffed,  her  eyes  snapping.  "Oh,  yes, 
I  see!"  she  spoke,  biting  her  words  off  with  blade- 
like  lips.  "How  nice  that  was !  You  and  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  and  Mary  were  all  there  to  help  'em  through. 
Well,  sir,  between  you,  you've  ruined  my  child's 
life,  that's  what  you've  done!  And  you  ought  to 
be  ashamed  of  yourselves,  all  of  you!" 

"My  dear  madam!"  cried  the  Colonel. 

"Yes,  sir,  that's  what  you've  done — ruined  her 
life.  She  could  have  married  Pohter  Scruggs,  a 
rich  man,  just  by  crookin'  her  little  finger  at  him. 
But  no — you  and  Mrs.  Todhunter  have  encouraged 
her  into  marryin'  that  contemptible  Sim  Birdsong, 
who  ain't  worth  the  salt  to  save  him — "  Here  she 
tossed  her  head  to  dash  the  tears  aside. 

The  Colonel  fidgeted  in  anguish  of  soul. 

"That's  the  plain  truth,  Colonel  Todhunter,  and 
it's  makin'  you  squirm,  too !  I  can  see  through  the 
whole  thing.  Angelica's  been  confidin'  in  you  and 
Mrs.  Todhunter,  and  you-all  have  sided  with  her 
and  advised  her  to  marry  Sim  Birdsong.  It  was 
mighty  easy  for  Mrs.  Todhunter,  with  her  own 

165 


daughter  Mary  courted  by  Tom  Strickland,  whom 
you-all  like.  But  I'll  tell  her  exactly  what  I  think 
of  it  all,  the  very  next  time  I  lay  eyes  on  her.  And 
she  can  like  it  or  lump  it!" 

What  was  left  of  Colonel  Todhunter's  courage 
revived  at  the  wrongful  blaming  of  Mrs.  Todhunter. 

"Mrs.  Exall,"  he  said,  "Mrs.  Todhunter  had  no 
more  to  do  with  that  there  weddin'  than  the  babe  un- 
born, ma'am.  She  didn't  know  a  thing  about  it  till 
it  was  all  ready  to  take  place.  She  was  rakin'  me 
over  the  coals  no  more'n  fifteen  minutes  ago  for 
puttin'  my  own  fingers  into  the  pie — "  Here  the 
Colonel  pulled  up,  horror-stricken. 

Mrs.  Exall's  look  was  withering.  "So!"  she 
cried.  "It  was  you  who  did  the  meddlin' !  And  the 
plottin'!  And  the  contrivin'!  It  was  you,  Colonel 
Todhunter!  You  and  that  worthless  Sim  Birdsong 
put  your  heads  together  and  laid  out  your  plans  to 
rob  a  poor  widow-woman  of  her  only  child — " 

"Madam!"  expostulated  Colonel  Todhunter. 
"That  ain't  fair!  I'm  sorry — " 

"You're  sorry?"  scoffed  Mrs.  Exall  bitterly. 
"You're  sorry?  And  meantime  my  poor  daughter 
is  married  beyond  redemption.  I'd  like  to  know 

1 66 


A    TERRIFYING    PRICE 

what  good  your  bein'  sorry  is  goin'  to  do  me,  sir! 
And  I'd  like  to  know  what  business  you  had  meddlin' 
in  the  affair  at  all,  sir!" 

"Madam,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter  desperately, 
"I  was  honestly  tryin'  to  make  them  two  young  peo- 
ple happy.  Miss  Angelica  loved  Sim.  She  didn't 
love  Pohter  Scruggs.  And  his  money  wouldn't  ha' 
brought  happiness  to  her,  she  a-lovin'  Sim  Birdsong 
instead  o'  lovin'  him.  And  I  come  here,  ma'am,  to 
ask  you  to  forgive  them  two  young  people.  It'll 
make  'em  the  happiest  young  married  people  in  all 
the  world  if — " 

Mrs.  Exall  rose.  She  went  to  the  front  door  and 
opened  it  elaborately.  Then  she  returned  to  her 
visitor. 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  she  spoke.  "My  front  door 
is  open.  It  is  open  for  you  to  leave  my  house,  sir. 
When  you  see  my  daughter  Angelica  you  can  tell 
her  from  me  that  she  has  brought  my  gray  hairs  in 
sorrow  to  the  grave.  I  don't  ever  want  to  see  her 
again.  And  as  for  that  low-down  Sim  Birdsong, 
you  tell  him  that  if  ever  he  comes  to  this  house  I'll 
throw  a  kittle  of  scalding  water  on  him  like  I  would 
on  a  mangy  dog,  sir.  And  you  needn't  trouble  your- 

167 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

self  to  come  here  any  more,  either,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  neither  you  nor  Mrs.  Todhunter  nor  Mary, 
sir.  I  never  want  to  lay  eyes  on  any  one  of  you 
again  the  longest  day  I  live!" 

"Mrs.  Exall!"  cried  Colonel  Todhunter.  "For 
your  daughter's  sake — for  Miss  Angelica's  sake, 
ma'am — " 

Mrs.  Exall  pointed  to  the  open  door. 

"If  you  don't  go  away  from  here,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter," she  said,  "I'll  scratch  your  old  eyes  out, 
that's  what  I'll  do  to  you !" 

The  Colonel's  fingers  convulsively  gripped  the 
broad  brim  of  his  soft  hat.  Awe  of  this  terrifying 
woman  of  wrath  was  in  his  soul.  One  look  into  her 
face  completed  his  rout.  The  next  moment  he  began 
the  most  ignominious  retreat  that  a  sinister  fate 
had  ever  imposed  upon  him. 

Mrs.  Exall  followed  him  through  the  hall.  As  his 
feet  crossed  her  threshold  she  slammed  the  door  so 
swiftly  and  violently  that  the  Colonel  for  ever  there- 
after swore  he  felt  the  suddenly  projected  air  strike 
the  back  of  his  neck  with  a  cyclone's  force. 

Then,  fathoms  deep  in  chagrin,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter made  his  inglorious  way  back  to  the  wedding 

1 68 


A    TERRIFYING    PRICE 

party.  But  he  refrained  from  laying  before  the  bridal 
couple  the  shameful  details  of  his  encounter  with 
Angelica's  mother. 

"If  I  was  you  two,"  he  explained,  after  making  a 
general  announcement  of  Mrs.  Exall's  refusal  to 
receive  them,  "I  don't  think  I'd  go  around  there  for 
a  little  while.  She's  naturally  put  out  about  it. 
You'd  better  give  her  time  to  cool  off  some." 

But  when  he  reached  home  he  told  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  the  whole  story,  dismally. 

"I  got  pretty  nigh  all  I  deserved,"  he  said.  "I'd 
ha'  got  it  all  if  some  man  had  been  there  to  lick  me 
within  an  inch  of  my  life.  But,  of  course,  poor  old 
Mrs.  Exall  couldn't  be  expected  to  do  that.  I'll 
tell  you  one  thing,  though.  When  I  was  a-sneakin' 
out  through  that  there  hall  o'  her'n,  like  a  whipped 
dog  with  his  tail  between  his  legs,  if  she'd  took  a 
broomstick  to  me  and  lammed  seventeen  different 
kinds  o'  stuffin'  out'n  me,  I  wouldn't  ha'  said  a  word. 
'Twould  ha'  served  me  just  right.  I  tell  you,  Mary, 
hereafter  I'm  a-goin'  to  let  young  folks  manage 
their  own  love  affairs.  It's  too  big  a  contract  for  any 
outside  party  to  assume,  'less'n  he's  deliberately 
lookin'  for  trouble!" 

169 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Strangely  enough,  relenting  from  her  original 
position,  Mrs.  Todhunter  was  vastly  indignant  at 
the  manner  of  Colonel  Todhunter's  reception  by 
Mrs.  Exall. 

"The  little  old  spitfire!"  she  exclaimed  wrath  fully, 
her  consoling  hand  resting  on  the  Colonel's.  "That 
Elvira  Exall's  got  the  worst  cross-patch  of  a  temper 
I  ever  saw.  But  she  mustn't  think  she  can  turn  it 
loose  on  you,  Colonel  Todhunter,  and  if  she  begins 
stormin'  at  me,  I'll  mighty  soon  let  her  know  it,  too !" 

"No,  you  won't,  Mary,"  said  the  Colonel,  a  faint 
grin  on  his  face.  "Colonel  Thurs  T.  Todhunter  got 
just  what  was  comin'  to  him,  and  nobody  knows  it 
better'n  him.  That  poor,  lonesome  old  woman  ought 
to  have  knocked  the  top  o'  my  head  off!" 

But  late  that  night  Mrs.  Todhunter  felt  the  Colo- 
nel shake  with  sudden  laughter  as  he  lay  in  bed. 

"What's  the  matter,  Colonel  Todhunter?"  she 
asked. 

"I  believe  I'm  glad  I  done  it  after  all — helpin'  An- 
gelica and  Sim  to  get  married,  Mary,"  he  replied. 
"I'll  be  plumb- jiggered  if  that  old  catamaran  mustn't 
ha'  been  turrible  to  live  with!  Yes,  suh,  I'm  glad 
I  done  it!" 

170 


CHAPTER  XII 

TOM  STRICKLAND  FACES  COLONEL  TODHUNTER  IN  A 
SENTIMENTAL   CRISIS 

HONESTLY,  Mary,"  protested  Tom  Strick- 
land, "it  isn't  safe  for  you  to  drive  home 
alone.    It's  all  very  well  to  make  believe  that  you're 
not  afraid  of  a  horse,  but  I  know  better.    Won't  you 
let  me  see  you  home?" 

The  two  had  met  in  the  lazy  quiet  of  Nineveh's 
town  square  and  Tom  was  quick  to  see  his  oppor- 
tunity. Mary  Todhunter  laughed  at  his  apprehen- 
sive manner. 

"How  can  you  keep  a  straight  face  when  you 
say  that,  Tom?"  she  asked.  "You  know  as  well  as 
I  do  that  I've  driven  old  Solomon  a  million  times, 
more  or  less,  and  that  nothing  on  earth  would  make 
him  run  away !" 

"You  never  can  tell  about  these  old  reliables," 
said  Tom.  "Solomon  might  take  it  into  his  head  to 
get  frisky  any  minute.  I  can  see  devilment  in  his 
eye  right  now!" 

171 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

He  placed  an  entreating  hand  on  the  buggy's  side. 

"Well,  get  in,  then,"  conceded  Mary,  tossing  her 
pretty  head.  "I  reckon  I  won't  have  any  peace  until 
I  let  you  have  your  own  way!" 

Tom  swung  himself  into  the  buggy  instantly. 
"That's  a  mighty  wise  conclusion,  Mary,"  he  re- 
marked, taking  the  reins  and  heading  old  Solomon 
toward  the  shady  road  that  led  to  Mary's  home.  "I 
wish  to  goodness  you'd  make  up  your  mind  to  it  as 
a  permanent  thing !" 

Mary  flashed  mockery  at  him.  "I  reckon  you  do !" 
she  exclaimed.  "It's  just  like  you.  But  there's  no 
danger  of  it's  coming  to  pass,  Mr.  Tom  Strickland !" 

They  were  now  well  out  of  the  drowsy  town.  Old 
Solomon  trotted  contentedly  along  under  the  leafy 
foliage  that  arched  his  always  welcome  homeward 
way. 

"That's  one  reason  I'd  like  to  see  your  father 
elected  governor,"  continued  Mary.  "Those  Jef- 
ferson City  girls  will  soon  teach  you  your  proper 
place,  Torn  Strickland,  even  though  you  are  the  gov- 
ernor's son!" 

"I'm  not  the  governor's  son  yet,  Mary,"  re- 
sponded Tom,  an  intentional  meekness  in  his  tone. 

172 


A    SENTIMENTAL    CRISIS 

"And  even  if  the  time  ever  comes  that  I  am,  Jeffer- 
son City  will  see  mighty  little  of  me." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Mary.  "You'll 
certainly  have  to  go  to  the  state  capital  when  Colonel 
and  Mrs.  Strickland  go,  won't  you?" 

Tom's  face  took  on  an  injured  expression.  "I 
declare,  Mary,"  he  spoke,  "you  never  seem  to  realize 
that  I'm  no  longer  a  boy.  Please  remember  that  I'm 
a  grown  man,  now,  and  that  I've  studied  law  and 
been  admitted  to  practice  at  the  Missouri  bar!" 

Laughter  gleamed  in  Mary's  eyes.  "Well,  Mr. 
Thomas  Strickland,  great  lawyer  that  you  are,"  she 
mocked,  "what  then?" 

"Why,  just  this — that  I  intend  to  stay  right  here 
in  Nineveh,"  announced  Tom  loftily.  "It's  all  set- 
tled, too.  I'm  going  to  be  taken  into  partnership 
with  my  father  and  old  Judge  Boiling,  and  then  I 
can  hold  my  father's  practice  if  he's  elected.  ^Any- 
way, I'm  to  be  a  partner.  'Strickland,  Boiling  and 
Strickland,'  that's  how  the  new  sign  will  read!" 

Mary  laughed  outright.  "Goodness  me!"  she 
cried.  "Won't  we  be  a  big  man  then?  Oh,  Tom,  it'll 
be  such  fun  to  hear  you  make  a  speech  in  court! 
Ahem — Gentlemen  of  the  jury — " 

173 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Shame  on  you,  Mary  Todhunter!"  cried  Tom, 
reddening  boyishly.  "It's  just  like  you,  though. 
You've  poked  fun  at  me  all  your  life !" 

"I  haven't,  either !"  denied  Mary  instantly.  "I've 
only  laughed  at  your  high  and  mighty  ways  now  and 
then,  and  you  know  it !" 

Tom's  angry  eyes  looked  straight  to  the  front. 

"You  had  no  right  to  say  that  about  me,"  con- 
tinued Mary.  "I've  been  mighty  good  to  you!" 

"Up  to  a  certain  point,  yes,"  agreed  Tom.  "But 
just  the  minute  I  get  serious  about  anything  you 
begin  laughing  at  me." 

"Why,  Tom,  I  don't  do  anything  of  the  sort!" 
protested  Mary.  "I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  thing! 
You  can  try  me  this  very  minute  and  see!" 

"All  right,  I  will!"  spoke  Tom  quickly.  "Mary, 
I  love  you.  I  want  you  to  promise  to  be  my  wife. 
Won't  you?  I've  loved  you  all  my  life!" 

"Tom  Strickland!"  cried  Mary,  blushing  hotly. 
"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself !  You've  got 
no  right  to  say  that  just  because — just  because  I — 
I  was  trying  to  be  good  to  you !" 

"Mary,"  said  Tom  sturdily,  "If  you  don't  know 
I've  been  in  love  with  you  all  this  time  you  must  be 

174 


A    SENTIMENTAL   CRISIS 

blind.  And  now  I've  told  you,  why — well,  you've 
got  to  give  me  an  answer — and  I  love  you  so  that  I'm 
afraid  to  hear  it!  If  it's  no — well,  it'll  break  my 
heart,  that's  all !" 

There  was  no  answer  to  his  pleading.  Mary  had 
given  him  onq  startled  look.  Then  her  eyes  had 
softened  and  turned  away  from  his.  It  seemed  to 
Tom  that  she  was  crying. 

"Mary,"  he  said  humbly,  "I  didn't  mean  to  say 
anything  to  trouble  you,  but  I  had  to  tell  you  some 
time  or  other.  I've  loved  you  a  long,  long  time.  Is 
there  any  chance  for  me  at  all  ?" 

Still  there  was  no  answer. 

"I  reckon  I've  been  the  blind  one,"  said  Tom  sadly. 
"I  reckon  you  can't  care  for  me  the  way  I  care  for 
you.  Yes,  Mary,  I  reckon  it's  me  that's  been  blind !" 

"Yes,  Tom,"  replied  Mary  Todhunter.  "It's  you 
that  have  been  blind." 

Tom  bowed  his  head.  "I  ought  to  have  seen  that 
you  didn't  love  me,"  he  said.  "I  ought  to  have  seen 
it.  Then  I  wouldn't  have  given  you  the  pain  of  hav- 
ing to  tell  me  so." 

"I'm  not  going  to  tell  you,"  said  Mary. 

"All  right,  Mary,"  replied  Tom.  "I'll  take  my 
175 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

answer  without  hurting  you  by  making  you  put  it 
into  words.  I'm  no  hog,  anyway — I  know  when  I've 
had  enough." 

To  his  amazement  Mary  burst  out  laughing.  "Of 
all  the  funny  things  to  say  at  such  a  time !"  she  cried. 
Her  eyes  were  full  of  mischief,  yet  beautifully  ten- 
der. "Oh,  Tom,  indeed  you  are  the  blindest  of  the 
blind!" 

A  sudden  hope  stirred  in  Tom's  soul.  "Mary!" 
he  exclaimed.  "You  don't  mean — " 

"I  do,  Tom!"  softly  replied  Mary.  "How  could 
you  believe  I  didn't  love  you?  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  of  yourself." 

And  Tom  Strickland  took  Mary  Todhunter  in  his 
arms,  leaving  old  Solomon  to  go  his  own  way  un- 
guided. 

"I'll  tell  Mrs.  Todhunter  and  the  Colonel  this 
very  day!"  he  announced  a  few  moments  later. 
"Lord,  they'd  see  it  anyway  in  my  face,  I'm  so  proud 
and  happy.  I  want  to  know  if  they  think  I'm  good 
enough  for  you." 

Mary  tossed  her  head.  "They'd  better  think  so !" 
she  retorted  indignantly.  "Not  good  enough,  in- 
deed!" 

176 


'Mary!  you  don't  mean "     Page  176 


But  Tom  was  near  to  being  panic-stricken  when 
they  had  gained  the  wide  gallery  of  Mary's  home 
and  were  confronting  her  parents. 

"Howdy,  Tom !"  spoke  Colonel  Todhunter.  His 
glance  passed  from  young  Strickland  to  his  daughter 
with  just  the  faintest  twinkle  of  amusement  in  his 
gray-blue  eyes. 

Tom  Strickland  had  taken  Mrs.  Todhunter's 
hand.  "Howdy,  Mrs.  Todhunter — Howdy,  Colo- 
nel," he  said,  his  face  an  open  book  of  confession. 
"I — I — well,  I — Mary  was  good  enough  to  say  I 
could  come  home  with  her !" 

"We're  glad  you  did,  Tom,"  replied  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter. "And  you've  got  to  stay  to  supper." 

Colonel  Todhunter's  lips  were  twitching.  "I  don't 
know  about  that,  honey,"  he  spoke.  "Tom  don't 
look  to  me  like  he's  very  hungry." 

Mary  flashed  swift  indignation  at  her  father. 
Mrs.  Todhunter  looked  at  the  Colonel  in  surprise. 
Then,  in  sudden  understanding,  she  shot  a  quick 
glance  at  the  young  people.  Tom  Strickland  blushed 
redder  than  ever.  Mary  fired  at  her  mother  one 
soft  volley  of  entreaty  from  dewy  eyes  and  then 
fled  precipitately  into  the  house.  Her  face  filled 

177 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

with   comprehending  tenderness,    Mrs.    Todhunter 
followed  Mary,  making  no  excuses. 

"Tom,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "you  seem  to 
have  been  kicking  up  a  mighty  funny  rumpus  this 
load  o'  poles,  young  man !" 

Tom  stood  like  a  condemned  felon  in  the  dock. 
"I  reckon  I  have,  Colonel,"  he  made  answer.  Then, 
after  a  dismay-filled  pause,  "I — I — I've  been  ask- 
ing Mary  to  marry  me,  sir!" 

Colonel  Todhunter's  face  was  impassive. 

Tom  Strickland  stood  very  erect.  Pride  shone  in 
his  eyes.  "I  don't  know,  sir,  whether  you've  noticed 
it  or  not,"  he  resumed,  "but  I've  been  in  love  with 
Mary  for  a  long  time." 

A  relish ful  twinkle  was  in  Colonel  Todhunter's 
eyes. 

"And,  sir — and — well,  Colonel  Todhunter,  it's 
just  this!"  exultantly,  but  blushingly,  exclaimed 
Tom,  "I  know  I  don't  deserve  it — I  can't  hardly  be- 
lieve it — but  Mary  says  she  loves  me,  too — and 
— well,  sir,  I  want  to  ask  Mrs.  Todhunter's  and 
your  consent  to  our  marriage,  sir !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  was  contemplating  the  young 
man  with  eyes  brimful  of  kindly  amusement. 

178 


A    SENTIMENTAL    CRISIS 

"Tom,"  he  said,  "as  long  as  you  live,  you'll  never 
forget  how  skeered  you  are  this  minute,  suh.  But 
you  got  through  with  it  like  a  hero — a  blamed  sight 
better  than  I  did  when  I  asked  for  Mrs.  Todhunter. 
That  sure  was  a  terrible  experience !" 

But  the  next  moment  his  face  was  grave.  He  laid 
his  hand  on  young  Strickland's  shoulder. 

"Tom,  my  boy,"  he  said,  "I'd  rather  give  Mary  to 
you  than  to  any  other  man  in  the  world,  and  you 
ought  to  ha'  known  it  without  my  tellin'  you.  I've 
known  you  and  liked  you  all  the  time  you've  been 
growin'  up,  and  I  love  your  father  like  he  was  my 
own  brother.  I  am  glad  you  and  Mary  have  got  it 
all  settled,  and  I'm  sure  Mrs.  Todhunter  thinks  as 
much  of  you  as  I  do.  God  bless  you  and  Mary  both, 
my  boy !" 

There  was  a  sudden  break  in  the  Colonel's  voice. 
"It's  up  to  you  and  Mary  to  arrange  all  the  rest  of 
it,  young  man,"  he  spoke  again,  after  a  little  pause. 
Then,  with  a  whimsical  smile —  "And  all  of  your 
troubles  are  ahead  of  you  both — may  the  good  Lord 
have  mercy  on  your  souls!" 

A  splendid  gratitude  shone  in  Tom's  eyes.  "All 
I've  got  to  say  is  this,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  said, 

179 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"God  helping  me,  I'll  make  Mary  the  best  husband 
in  the  world !" 

"You'll  need  the  Good  Marster's  help  consider- 
able, too,  my  boy,"  responded  Colonel  Todhunter 
quizzically.  "And  don't  bank  on  bein'  too  blamed 
successful  in  that-there  undertaking  suh.  Bein'  a 
good  husband  ain't  no  sinecure,  not  by  a  long  shot. 
It's  the  biggest  contract  you  ever  undertook,  and 
you've  got  to  keep  hammerin'  away  at  it  ev'ry  min- 
ute, suh.  It's  enough  to  skeer  a  man  to  death,  Tom, 
if  it  wan't  for  one  thing:  bein'  a  good  husband  means 
havin'  a  happy  wife,  and  that's  the  finest  thing  on 
God's  green  footstool.  You  just  live  up  to  that 
great  truth,  Tom,  and  it's  all  I'll  ask  of  you." 

"You  won't  have  to  ask  more  than  once,  Colonel 
Todhunter,"  replied  Tom  fervently.  "I'll  think  of 
nothing  but  Mary's  happiness  all  my  life,  sir.  And 
that'll  mean  mine,  too — we're  going  to  be  the  happi- 
est couple  in  all  the  world,  Colonel !" 

"Now  that's  where  you  slip  up  again,  Tom,"  said 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "Married  life  ain't  just  one  long 
dream  of  unalloyed  bliss,  not  by  a  jugful,  suh.  You 
got  to  take  it  as  ft  comes,  the  bad  with  the  good,  and 

1 80 


A    SENTIMENTAL    CRISIS 

sometimes  it  may  look  like  the  good  ain't  as  plenti- 
ful as  it  might  be,  but  that's  percisely  when  you  got 
to  sit  tight,  and  watch  and  pray  for  a  change  o'  luck. 
And  a  man's  wife  ain't  no  chronic  angel,  young  man, 
no  more'n  a  woman's  husband  is.  You'll  be  power- 
ful lucky  if  Mary  makes  you  as  good  a  wife  as  her 
mother's  made  me,  but,  all  the  same,  I've  seen  days 
when  Mrs.  Todhunter  looked  more  like  a  destroyin' 
cyclone  to  me  than  anything  else.  And  she  can  tell 
a  hundred  shortcomin's  on  me  where  I  can  tell  one 
on  her,  so  there  you  are,  suh.  It's  give  and  take, 
that's  what  it  is,  and  you  just  got  to  do  your  best, 
keep  on  whistlin'  for  cheerfulness'  sake,  and  stand 
ready  to  make  a  quick  duck  if  things  get  too  stormy, 
suh!" 

Tom  Strickland  could  not  help  but  laugh.  "Well, 
Colonel,"  he  responded,  "if  Mary  and  I  are  as  happy 
as  you  and  Mrs.  Todhunter,  I'll  be  more  than  satis- 
fied. And  I'll  try  to  make  her  a  good  husband,  I 
promise  you  that." 

"I  know  you  will,  Tom,"  replied  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter. "And  I  know  Mary'll  try  to  fill  her  part 
o'  the  contract  the  same  way,  too." 

181 


COLONEL"   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

The  young  man's  gaze  went  nervously  past  the 
door  through  which  Mary  and  her  mother  had  van- 
ished. 

"I  wonder  where  they  are,  Colonel?"  he  ven- 
tured apprehensively.  "I  hope  there's  nothing  seri- 
ous happening!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  tugged  at  his  grizzled  mus- 
tache to  keep  from  smiling  openly  in  Tom's  face. 

"Don't  you  worry  none  about  Mary  and  her 
mother,  suh,"  he  spoke.  "They're  just  havin'  a 
heart-to-heart  talk  on  the  all-absorbin'  subject  of 
marriage,  Tom,  and  they  got  to  have  a  good  cry 
while  it's  goin'  on.  I  bet  they've  already  shed  enough 
briny  tears  to  float  a  battleship,  suh.  That's  a  wom- 
an's way  at  such  a  time  as  this.  All  mothers  has  got 
to  wail  over  their  daughters  then  like  they  was  goin' 
to  die  'stead  o'  gettin'  married.  But  they're  all  right 
after  that,  suh.  When  Mary  and  Mrs.  Todhunter 
get  through  and  wipe  each  other's  weepin'  eyes 
they'll  show  up  out  here  as  serene  as  a  summer's  day. 
I  reckon  it's  the  Good  Marster's  will — they  got  to 
do  it  that  way,  suh." 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Todhunter  appeared  in  the 
doorway.  She  went  straight  to  Tom  and  put  both 

182 


A    SENTIMENTAL    CRISIS 

hands  on  his  shoulders  and  kissed  him  on  the  fore- 
head. 

"God  bless  you  and  make  both  of  you  happy, 
Tom,"  she  said,  her  voice  trembling.  "Mary  loves 
you  very  dearly.  You've  got  to  be  a  good  man,  Tom, 
for  her  sake.  You  will,  too,  won't  you  ?" 

Mary's  sweet  face  was  now  in  Tom's  view  from 
where  she  stood  in  the  shadowy  old  hall  behind  her 
mother.  The  young  man  bowed  his  head  at  Mrs. 
Todhunter's  tremulous  speech. 

"God  helping  me,  I  will,  Mrs.  Todhunter,"  he  re- 
plied. 

Something  very  like  the  dimming  of  tears  came 
into  Colonel  Todhunter's  eyes  at  the  picture  thus 
presented.  But  he  strove  manfully  to  conceal  the 
fact  of  such  emotion. 

"Come  out  here,  Mary!"  he  cried  indignantly. 
"You've  been  leavin'  Tom  to  face  the  music  alone 
long  enough !" 

But  when  Mary  Todhunter  obeyed  the  summons 
her  father  took  her  into  his  arms  and  pressed  his 
suspiciously  quivering  lips  to  her  brown  hair. 

"Ain't  you  ashamed  of  yourself,  honey?"  he 
asked.  "For  bein'  so  willin'  to  leave  your  mother 

183 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

and  me  just  because  that  snip  of  a  Tom  Strickland 
wants  you?  We're  goin'  to  be  mighty  lonesome 
without  you,  daughter!" 

And  then,  because  Mary  cried,  her  face  hidden 
on  his  breast,  Colonel  Todhunter  scowled  ferociously 
at  Tom. 

"It's  all  your  fault,  you  young  rascal !"  he  ejacu- 
lated, patting  Mary  soothingly  on  the  shoulder  at 
the  same  time.  "You  had  no  business  wantin'  her, 
and  you  know  it !" 

At  which  not  one  of  his  three  hearers  could  re- 
frain from  laughing — and  this  was  precisely  what 
the  Colonel  desired. 


184 


CHAPTER  XIII 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  TAKES  THE  STUMP  IN   RURAL 
MISSOURI 

A  a  result  of  Colonel  Todhunter's  picturesque 
prosecution  of  the  Strickland  campaign  in  St. 
Louis  he  was  unanimously  chosen  by  the  Honorable 
William  J.  Strickland's  managers  to  invade  the  Yan- 
cey  strongholds  throughout  the  state. 

"Todhunter's  a  champion  vote-getter,  Strickland," 
said  old  Governor  Leslie,  "and  that's  a  mighty  rare 
gift.  Any  ordinary  spellbinder  can  keep  a  candi- 
date's own  friends  in  line  during  a  campaign,  and 
get  'em  to  the  polls  on  election  day.  But  it  takes  a 
man  of  uncommon  qualities  to  steal  friends  away 
from  the  other  fellow.  Todhunter's  that  sort  of  man. 
He's  a  natural  born  campaigner,  and  the  sooner  we 
put  him  right  on  the  firing  line  the  better." 

This  fitted  in  admirably  with  the  Colonel's  own 
wishes. 

"I'll  let  'em  know  we're  alive,  anyway,"  he  com- 
mented. "I  ain't  never  been  able  to  figure  out  more'n 

185 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

one  sure  way  to  win  a  fight,  and  that's  to  crowd  the 
other  man  from  the  jump,  suh.  Keep  him  guessin' 
and  dodgin'  every  minute.  The  first  thing  you  know 
he's  retreatin'  and  you're  advancin'  and  all  the  odds 
is  in  your  favor,  suh.  I  won't  like  nothin'  better'n 
to  butt  into  them-there  Yancey  counties,  armed  for 
the  strife  and  eager  for  the  fray,  I-gad !" 

Old  Governor  Leslie  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and 
laughed  until  his  spare  frame  shook. 

"There's  your  man,  Strickland !"  he  cried,  flashing 
his  eagle  eyes  approvingly  at  Colonel  Todhunter. 
"We  can't  get  him  out  into  the  state  too  quick  for 
the  good  of  the  cause!" 

"How  soon  can  you  take  the  stump,  Thurs?" 
asked  Colonel  Strickland. 

"Just  the  minute  you-all  drop  the  hat,"  replied 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "You  can't  curry  no  hoss  by 
standin'  off  and  lookin'  at  him,  suh !" 

That  same  night,  therefore,  Colonel  Todhunter 
departed  to  cover  his  itinerary  in  the  country  dis- 
tricts. He  headed  straight  for  that  section  of  Mis- 
souri where  the  Yancey  strength  reached  its  fullest 
tide. 

"Th5  ain't  nothin'  like  carryin'  the  war  into  Af- 
186 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

rica,"  he  said.  "Them-there  folks  ain't  married  to 
old  Steve  Yancey,  they  just  sorter  perfer  him,  that's 
all.  Well,  suh,  by  the  time  I  get  through  tellin'  'em 
all  about  old  Bill  Strickland,  maybe  the  sun  won't 
rise  and  set  in  Steve  Yancey  every  day  in  the  week 
and  Sunday,  too,  suh !" 

The  Colonel  knew  his  rural  Missouri  like  a  book, 
and  was  temperamentally  so  attuned  to  its  people 
that  they  were  like  kinsmen  to  him.  He  possessed, 
also,  the  gift  of  colorful  oratory,  larded  with  rich 
humor,  so  dear  to  the  average  country  Missourian 
as  part  of  a  political  spellbinder's  equipment.  Be- 
sides, he  was  already  a  famous  figure  among  them, 
having  stumped  the  state  on  more  than  one  earlier 
occasion — and  now,  for  old  Bill  Strickland's  sake, 
he  was  fairly  outdoing  himself.  Finally,  too,  he 
stood  on  terms  of  the  warmest  friendship  with  many 
of  the  Yancey  leaders  and  enjoyed  nothing  more 
keenly  than  to  fight  them  frankly  on  a  most  cordial 
basis. 

"It's  all  in  the  Democratic  family,"  said  the  Colo- 
nel, "and  there  don't  need  to  be  no  hard  feelin's. 
You-all  can  stick  to  Steve  Yancey  if  you  insist  on  it, 
and  I  won't  never  whimper.  But  I'll  just  be  jim- 

187 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

swizzled  if  I  won't  bust  a  gallus  tryin'  to  show  you 
what's  the  truth — that  old  Bill  Strickland's  the 
stronger  candidate  of  the  two  and  ought  to  get  the 
nomination  for  the  sake  of  party  success,  my  fellow 
Democrats !" 

So  potently  was  the  Colonel  advancing  the  for- 
tunes of  the  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland  by  his 
characteristic  campaign  work  that  Major  Bulsom 
Piper,  the  Yancey  lieutenant  in  Vernon  County, 
laughingly  protested.  This  was  at  a  county  seat 
gathering  where  the  Colonel  had  just  made  a  most 
formidable  impression. 

"My  friends,"  said  Major  Piper,  "I'm  not  saying 
anything  against  Colonel  Todhunter  personally,  but 
I  want  to  warn  you  that  he's  playing  a  mighty  un- 
derhanded game.  He's  telling  too  many  good 
stories,  my  hearers,  and  it's  when  he  sets  you  to 
laughing  over  them  stories  that  he's  playin'  tricks 
with  you.  It's  a  peculiar  fact,  but  I  notice  that, 
while  Colonel  Todhunter's  stories  seem  mighty 
harmless  on  the  surface,  every  one  of  'em  makes 
some  kind  of  a  point  for  William  J.  Strickland  in 
an  innocent  sort  of  way.  Now,  my  fellow-Dem- 
ocrats, I  like  a  good  story  as  well  as  any  man  in  the 

1 88 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

world,  but  I  put  it  to  you  that  good  stories  ain't  argu- 
ments, and  I  don't  intend  to  see  you  made  unsettled 
in  your  minds  without  clear  logical  reasons  being 
advanced.  You  just  keep  a  grip  on  yourselves,  my 
friends — we've  promised  the  Honorable  Stephen  K. 
Yancey  that  he'll  get  the  banner  vote  in  Vernon 
County's  long  and  honorable  Democratic  history!" 

"Oh,  shucks  now,  Major,  that's  crowdin'  me  too 
hard,  suh !"  laughed  Colonel  Todhunter  in  the  course 
of  his  reply.  "I  leave  it  to  all  you  Vernon  County 
folks  if  the  major's  a-givin'  me  fair  play.  Me  and 
him  ain't  had  a  chance  to  pow-wow  together  for 
four  or  five  years,  and  it's  been  longer'n  that  since 
I  had  a  chance  to  visit  you-all  here  in  old  Vernon. 
Besides,  you  oughtn't  to  give  a  man  such  good  vittles 
to  eat  if  you  want  to  get  rid  of  him — it  ain't  con- 
sistent !" 

Even  Major  Bulsom  Piper,  though  shaking  his 
head  to  express  disapproval  of  such  specious  plead- 
ing, joined  in  the  laugh  which  greeted  this  remark. 

"My  friends  and  fellow-citizens,"  resumed  Colo- 
nel Todhunter,  "I  feel  compelled  to  tell  you  that  my 
friend  Major  Piper's  objections  remind  me  mighty 
forcibly  of  what  old  Judge  Lindsay  of  Kentucky 

189 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

used  to  say  about  his  nigger,  Jim,  the  biggest  chick- 
en-thief in  the  whole  country,  suh.  Jim's  weakness 
was  always  gettin'  the  judge  in  trouble  with  his 
neighbors. 

"  'Damn  that  nigger !'  old  Judge  Lindsay  used  to 
say,  rarin'  up  and  down  his  front  gallery  over  some 
new  scrape  of  Jim's.  'He  not  only  steals  my  own 
chickens,  suh,  but  I'm  held  responsible  for  every 
blamed  chicken  stole  in  this  section  of  the  state,  by 
gad,  suh!  I'll  have  to  break  that  nigger's  neck  yet, 
suh!' 

"But  the  next  minute  the  old  judge'd  be  shakin' 
his  fat  sides  laughin'.  'No,  suh!'  he'd  conclude  at 
the  last,  'I  won't  do  it!  That  infernal  nigger  Jim 
can  make  me  laugh  when  no  other  human  bein'  can 
— he's  cheap  at  the  price,  suh !' 

"And  I  tell  you  candidly,  my  hearers,"  continued 
the  Colonel,  "my  old  friend,  Major  Bulsom  Piper, 
knows  as  well  as  we  do  that  he  ^indorses  old  Judge 
Lindsay's  reasonin'.  He  better  keep  me  here  at  the 
price.  He  ain't  laughed  so  much  in  ten  years — look 
at  him  now,  the  snickerin'  old  hypocrite !" 

Later  that  day,  when  Major  Bulsom  Piper  hauled 
Colonel  Todhunter  over  the  coals,  privately,  for 

190 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

turning  the  joke  on  him  in  such  a  manner,  Colonel 
Todhunter  only  chuckled,  lingering  lovingly  over  his 
mint  julep. 

"I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  Major,"  he  said.  "You've 
certainly  got  some  almighty  fine  mint  patches  here  in 
Vernon,  suh!" 

But  it  was  at  the  big  barbecue  in  Dunklin  County, 
where  he  met  the  redoubtable  Bedford  Giles  on  the 
stump,  that  Colonel  Todhunter  made  himself  famous 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  Missouri. 

Bedford  Giles  was  probably  the  finest  living  mas- 
ter of  the  old  school  of  perfervid  political  oratory 
that  once  so  powerfully  swayed  the  minds  of  men 
in  the  South  and  Middle  West.  It  may  be  true 
that  he  lacked  the  sense  of  humor,  but,  offsetting  this 
delinquency,  he  possessed  a  sort  of  leonine  earnest- 
ness that  had  never  failed  to  score  tremendously  in 
the  campaigns  of  which  he  was  a  conspicuous  figure. 
The  announcement  of  a  speech  by  Bedford  Giles 
was  in  itself  sufficient  to  concentrate  Missourians 
at  one  given  point  from  a  radius  of  twenty  miles 
around.  And  they  were  never  disappointed,  because 
this  renowned  spellbinder,  in  his  temperament  a 
ranting  tragedian  of  the  old  Edwin  Forrest  type,  in- 

191 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

variably  tore  their  emotional  beings  to  tatters  and 
left  them  convinced  for  all  time  that  they  had  assur- 
edly been  listening  to  the  most  irresistible  orator  of 
their  day. 

Against  this  man  was  Colonel  Todhunter  pitted 
on  the  day  of  the  barbecue,  and  the  certainty  of  wit- 
nessing a  great  encounter  attracted  to  the  scene  of 
their  meeting  the  biggest  crowd  ever  assembled  at 
a  political  gathering  in  that  county.  Enthusiasm 
was  at  fever  heat.  The  fact  that  it  was  largely 
Yancey  enthusiasm  placed  the  Colonel  at  a  decided 
disadvantage,  but,  instead  of  depressing  his  daunt- 
less soul,  this  seemed  rather  to  key  him  up  to  his  best 
fighting  mood. 

During  the  forenoon,  as  was  not  uncommon,  there 
had  been  a  generous  flow  of  good  liquor.  The  ora- 
tors of  the  day  were  naturally  expected  to  give  a 
satisfying  account  of  themselves  in  disposing  of 
this  Democratic  output.  Both  were  seasoned  vet- 
erans at  the  task. 

It  was  a  peculiarity  of  Bedford  Giles,  however, 
that  when  he  reached  a  certain  stage  of  exhilaration 
his  mental  horizon  so  widened  and  his  imagination 
took  such  wings  to  itself  that  his  spellbinding  elo- 

192 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

quence  soared  more  in  the  realm  of  fancy  than  of 
fact.  His  figures  of  speech  became  overwhelming 
in  bold  poesy  of  conception  and  application,  and,  for 
the  time  being,  the  sonorous  rounding  out  of  his 
excited  thought  into  splendid  sentences  was  of  far 
more  importance  in  his  estimation  than  the  structure 
of  truth  upon  which  they  were  supposed  to  be  based. 
His  Missouri  hearers  enjoyed  this  phase  of  his  ora- 
tory keenly — by  the  time  he  was  primed  to  such 
gorgeous  flights,  they,  too,  were  similarly  primed 
to  accompany  him,  so  that  the  conclusion  of  one 
of  Bedford  Giles'  speeches  never  failed  to  witness  a 
scene  of  magnificent  emotional  proportions. 

Upon  this  occasion,  mellow  as  a  peach,  Bedford 
Giles  fairly  outdid  himself  in  his  barbecue  tribute 
to  the  virtues  of  the  Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey. 
Now,  in  reality,  Yancey  was  not  a  candidate  of  the 
"magnetic"  class.  He  had  many  friends,  he  was 
known  as  a  steadfast  party  man,  and  it  was  con- 
ceded that  he  possessed  a  particularly  shrewd  knack 
of  always  "lining  up"  with  the  stronger  faction  in 
party  divisions.  It  requires  more  than  these  things, 
however,  to  make  of  a  candidate  one  of  those  for- 
midable political  figures  for  whom  the  party  rank 

193 


and  file  delight  to  cheer  for  sheer  "love  and  affec- 
tion's sake,"  as  the  old  phrase  has  it. 

But  Bedford  Giles,  the  cockles  of  his  heart  gen- 
erously warmed  by  liberal  potations,  idealized  the 
Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey,  and  the  peroration 
of  his  speech  was  one  of  the  finest  and  most  typical 
examples  of  Gilesian  eloquence. 

"I  am  not  asking  you,  my  fellow-citizens,"  he  de- 
clared sonorously,  "to  nominate  Stephen  K.  Yancey 
to  the  proud  office  of  chief  executive  of  the  imperial 
commonwealth  of  Missouri  at  the  sacrifice  of  others 
equally  deserving.  No,  my  friends,  if  this  were  the 
case,  I  should  not  feel  the  supreme  confidence  that 
I  do  now  feel  in  your  entire  willingness  thus  to  honor 
him,  nor  in  the  wisdom  of  your  decision  in  his 
favor. 

"But,  fellow-Democrats,  I  speak  no  more  than  the 
simple  truth  when  I  solemnly  declare,  here  and  now, 
that  the  gentlemen  competing  with  Stephen  K.  Yan- 
cey for  your  suffrages  are  no  more  to  be  compared 
with  that  peerless  leader  than  the  tallow  candle  of 
our  forefathers  is  to  be  compared  with  the  Al- 
mighty's own  handiwork  of  universal  illumination, 
the  glorious  orb  of  day  that  now  shines  so  benign- 

194 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

antly  down  upon  this  representative  assemblage  of 
the  sovereign  American  people. 

"I  have  no  hesitancy,  my  friends,  in  placing  the 
Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey  before  you  to-day  as 
the  unrivaled  product  of  a  civilization,  of  a  nation 
and  of  a  people  that  have  in  their  splendid  conjunc- 
tion produced  the  most  godlike  development  of  the 
race  of  man  known  in  the  world's  history,  my  hear- 
ers. Stephen  K.  Yancey,  my  fellow-Missourians,  is 
more  than  a  mere  Democrat,  high  though  that  title 
may  justly  place  him  in  the  scale  of  human  progress. 
He  is  the  spotless  archangel,  of  American  Democ- 
racy. His  garments  are  as  pure  as  the  driven  snow, 
and  his  flaming  sword  of  battle  is  the  weapon  of 
righteousness.  His  mind  is  the  abiding  place  of 
political  chastity  and  his  soul  cherishes  the  untainted 
thoughts  of  the  sweet-minded  child,  or  of  those  ce- 
lestial cherubim  who  are  the  heavenly  parallels  of 
earthly  infancy.  And  I  say  to  you  now,  my  fellow- 
citizens,  .  that  when  the  mighty  Gabriel,  with  his 
awakening  trumpet,  sounds  that  awful  blast  that 
shall  summon  us  all  to  the  judgment  bar  for  a  final 
accounting,  supreme  among  the  elect  who  shall  arise 
on  that  great  day  and  make  answer  to  their  records 

195 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

on  the  open  scrolls  of  the  recording  angel,  the  man 
without  one  mark  to  his  discredit  made  by  that  an- 
gelic pen,  the  man  not  one  jot  or  tittle  afraid  of  the 
unfolding  of  those  august  registers,  the  man  against 
whom  may  be  pointed  neither  the  accusing  fingers  of 
men  nor  seraphim  in  condemnation  for  the  deeds  of 
his  doing,  will  be  the  Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey, 
of  Jackson  County,  in  whose  behalf  I  now  ask  your 
votes  at  the  approaching  primaries.  I  thank  you  for 
your  kind  attention !" 

It  was  a  titanic  effort.  Bedford  Giles  had  puffed 
and  perspired  freely  in  its  deliverance.  His  arms 
had  cut  wide  swaths  out  of  Missouri's  atmosphere. 
His  hands  had  bludgeoned  emphasis  into  his  words 
with  mighty  blows.  More  than  once  he  had  crouched 
as  if  to  spring  upon  the  presumptuous  rivals  of  the 
Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey,  only  to  rise  again  to 
his  full  height  and  hurl  forth,  with  all  the  effective- 
ness gained  by  such  bodily  exercises,  the  crushing 
conclusion  of  some  tremendous  sentence.  The 
speaker's  Missouri  audience  could  not  but  respond  to 
such  an  appeal.  Thunderous  cheers  greeted  Bedford 
Giles  as  he  bowed  and  seated  himself.  He  received 
them  modestly,  swabbing  his  heated  countenance 

196 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

with  a  big  handkerchief  already  dripping  with  the 
honest  sweat  of  oratorical  toil. 

Colonel  Todhunter  rose  to  reply.  Dismay  was  in 
his  face. 

"My  friends  of  Dunklin  County,"  he  began  hesi- 
tatingly, "I  hardly  know  what  to  say  in  reply  to 
Mr.  Bedford  Giles'  magnificent  tribute  to  the  virtues 
of  the  Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey,  his  candidate 
for  the  Democratic  nomination  for  governor  of  Miz- 
zoorah." 

Here  the  speaker  paused,  almost  gropingly. 

Then  he  resumed.  "Fellow-citizens,  you  all  know 
old  Bill  Strickland,  of  Nineveh,  as  well  as  I  do." 

One  derisive  hoot  sounded  from  the  outskirts  of 
the  crowd.  The  speaker  seemed  hurt,  but  not  sur- 
prised. 

"And,  knowin'  him,"  he  continued,  "you  know  as 
well  as  I  do  that  he  ain't  fitten  to  run  for  office 
against  no  spotless  archangel." 

A  profound  silence  fell  upon  the  assemblage. 
Sadness  rested  on  Colonel  Todhunter's  visage. 

"My  hearers,"  he  said,  "I  reckon  I  got  to  face  the 
music  and  take  my  medicine  like  a  man.  Old  Bill 
Strickland,  of  Nineveh,  somehow  don't  seem  to 

197 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

stack  up  the  right  way  against  the  Honorable  Ste- 
phen K.  Yancey,  of  Jackson  County." 

From  somewhere  in  the  heart  of  the  crowd  there 
came  just  one  snort  of  appreciative  laughter.  It  was 
quickly  strangled. 

"I  hate  to  confess  it,"  continued  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  "but  olcf  Bill  Strickland  ain't  no  celestial 
cherub,  neither,  like  Bedford  Giles  describes  the 
Honorable  Stephen  K.  Ya'ncey." 

An  apprehensive  uneasiness  crept  into  the  faces  of 
the  local  Yancey  managers  on  the  speakers'  plat- 
form. 

"Fellow-citizens,"  spoKe  Colonel  Todhunter,  "old 
Bill  Strickland  ain't  got  no  business  settin'  himself 
up  in  opposition  to  a  man  who  meets  all  the  moral 
requirements  of  the  heavenly  seraphim,  like  Bedford 
Giles  says  the  Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey  meets 
'em." 

In  the  very  front  rows  of  trie  crowd  facing  the 
speaker  broad  smiles  of  humorous  comprehension 
began  to  be  visible. 

"And  old  Bill  Strickland  ain't  got  no  business," 
conceded  Colonel  Todhunter,  "askin'  you  to  give 
him  your  votes  'stead  of  givin'  'em  to  a  man  that'll 

198 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

shine  at  the  judgment  bar  on  the  last  day,  at  the 
blowin'  of  Gabriel's  horn,  like  Bedford  Giles  says  the 
Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey's  a-goin'  to  shine." 

"E-yow-wow-wow !"  came  a  rapturous  American 
whoop  of  tickled  approval  from  somewhere  in  the 
crowd. 

"A  man,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "who'll  face 
the  recordin'  angel  hisself,  without  the  flicker  of  an 
eyelash,  secure  in  his  consciousness  of  his  own 
immaculate  perfection." 

A  great  under-wave  of  laughter,  held  in  leash, 
swung  to  and  fro  through  the  confronting  assem- 
blage. 

And  then  Colonel  Todhunter  rose  to  his  full  height 
of  six  feet,  thrusting  his  right  hand  into  the  bosom 
of  his  ample-skirted  coat. 

"My  friends,"  he  announced,  "all  I  can  say  in  ex- 
cuse for  old  Bill  Strickland  is  that  he  thought  he  was 
runnin'  against  just  a  plain  human  bein'  for  the 
Democratic  nomination  for  governor  of  Mizzoorah." 

Suddenly  he  bowed  his  head,  threw  out  his  hands 
deprecatingly,  and  then  lifted  his  eyes  mournfully 
as  he  stood  once  more  erect. 

"Fellow-Democrats,"   he   cried,    "I    hereby   an- 
199 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

nounce  the  withdrawal  of  the  Honorable  William 
J.  Strickland  from  this  race,  and  I  wish  to  state  that 
the  withdrawal  is  made  in  favor  of  the  Honorable 
Stephen  K.  Yancey  on  the  strength  of  the  descrip- 
tion of  Mr.  Yancey  just  given  by  Bedford  Giles." 

There  was  a  moment  of  astonished  silence. 

Colonel  Todhunter  remained  standing.  Again  he 
lifted  his  hand.  "Provided,"  he  said,  "that  Bedford 
Giles  can  furnish  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  claims 
he  has  just  made  for  the  Honorable  Stephen  K. 
Yancey,  coverin'  the  spotless  archangel  business, 
the  sword  of  righteousness,  the  celestial  cherub,  the 
heavenly  seraphim,  the  unfolded  scrolls  of  the  re- 
cordin'  angel,  and  so  forth  and  so  forth,  straight 
down  to  the  garments  pure  as  the  driven  snow  and 
the  mind  of  political  chastity,  and  includin'  the  whole 
blamed  outfit,  my  hearers !" 

A  mighty  roar  of  pent-up  laughter  burst  forth. 

It  was  like  an  explosion.  Men  rocked  to  and  fro 
on  their  feet  in  uncontrollable  mirth.  They  smote 
one  another  on  the  back,  shouting  in  Gargantuan 
chorus.  In  the  midst  of  the  demonstration  Bedford 
Giles,  stricken  by  the  thunderbolt  of  ridicule,  sprang 
from  his  seat  and  actually  fled  the  scene. 

200 


IN    RURAL    MISSOURI 

Colonel  Todhunter  gazed  after  his  disappearing 
figure  in  such  apparent  astonishment  that  the  cyclone 
of  laughter  increased  in  its  overwhelming  volume. 
But  the  Colonel  stood  unmoved,  his  face  absolutely 
impassive. 

And  when  the  sun  set  on  that  memorable  day  a 
new  record  had  been  made  in  the  colorful  history 
of  Missouri  political  campaigning.  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  in  a  five-minutes'  speech,  had  battered  down 
the  walls  of  the  Yancey  stronghold,  until  then 
thought  to  be  the  most  impregnable  in  all  Missouri. 


201 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    SHAME    OF    LOTTIE-MAY    DOGGETT — AND    ONE 
OTHER 

A  MOST  the  first  sight  that  met  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter's  eyes  when  Mrs.  Todhunter  and  him- 
self arrived  upon  the  scene  of  the  grand  reception 
and  ball  given  by  the  Sons  of  Confederate  Veterans 
at  the  Nineveh  Hotel  was  the  astonishing  spectacle  of 
Sim  Birdsong,  his  bride,  the  blushing  Angelica,  and 
Mrs.  Exall,  his  erstwhile  terrifying  mother-in-law, 
in  one  group  and  apparently  upon  terms  of  the  com- 
pletest  amity. 

The  hotel  dining-room,  festooned  in  bunting  for 
the  occasion,  was  doing  duty  as  a  ball-room,  the  Nin- 
eveh brass  band  was  stationed  upon  a  temporary 
platform  at  one  end,  the  members  of  the  Nineveh 
Light  Infantry,  all  Sons  of  Veterans,  were  in  full 
uniform,  and  Sim  Birdsong,  their  captain,  was  par- 
ticularly resplendent.  A  gorgeously  glittering  mar- 
tial figure,  he  posed  before  his  young  wife  and  her 
mother  as  proudly  as  a  peacock,  this  being  his  golden 

202 


THE    SHAME    OF    LOTTIE-MAY 

opportunity  to  convince  Mrs.  Exall  that  he  was  a 
son-in-law  well  worth  while. 

Colonel  Todhunter's  eyes  twinkled  at  the  picture. 
"Look  at  that-there  Sim  Birdsong !"  he  said  to  Mrs. 
Todhunter,  chuckling.  "Who'd  ever  think  that  he's 
so  skeered  of  that  old  Mrs.  Exall  as  to  sink  through 
the  floor  this  very  minute  if  she  let  out  just  one 
screech  at  him!  I'll  be  everlastin'ly  jiggered  if  he 
ain't  actually  patronizin'  the  old  lady !" 

"I'm  mighty  glad  Angelica's  mother  has  forgiven 
her,  and  that  they're  reconciled  and  on  good  terms," 
commented  Mrs.  Todhunter.  "I  didn't  like  to  think 
of  that  poor  child  being  on  bad  terms  with  her 
mother  during  her  bride-days — it  would  be  just  too 
pitiful  for  anything.  But  I  can't  see  for  the  life  of 
me  what  could  have  brought  Angelica's  ma  around 
so  quick.  She  certainly  was  mightily  put  out  by  the 
wedding!" 

"She  shorely  was!"  agreed  Colonel  Todhunter 
feelingly.  "But  pshaw,  Mary — you  women  can't  no 
more  keep  away  from  a  young  married  couple  than 
flies  can  keep  away  from  sugar — and  it's  a  thousand 
times  worse  when  your  own  daughter  happens  to  be 
the  bride.  Old  Mrs.  Exall  just  had  to  give  in.  She'd 

203 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

miss  too  much  fun  and  excitement  if  she  didn't,  and 
she  knew  it  But  I'll  bet  she's  got  Sim  Birdsong 
bluffed  to  just  where  she  wants  him,  right  now,  as 
a  condition  of  her  forgivin'  'em !" 

Mrs.  Todhunter  laughed.  "That's  all  right,"  she 
retorted.  "It's  good  for  a  young  husband  to  know 
his  proper  place,  and  it  takes  some  time  for  the  wife 
herself  to  be  in  the  necessary  frame  of  mind  to  teach 
him.  I'm  real  glad  Mrs.  Exall's  had  sense  enough 
to  give  in  to  'em." 

"Well,"  said  the  Colonel,  "now  that  they're  all  one 
happy  family,  I  reckon  the  old  lady  don't  cherish 
hard  feelin's  against  us  no  longer.  Let's  go  over  and 
speak  to  'em,  Mary." 

But  to  the  Colonel's  great  astonishment,  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  shook  her  head  vigorously  at  this.  Then  she 
laughed  in  his  perplexed  face. 

"Do  you  know  what's  happened,  in  all  likelihood, 
Colonel  Todhunter?"  she  asked.  "Well,  I'll  tell  you. 
Old  Mrs.  Exall  has  probably  reached  the  conclusion 
that  Angelica  and  Sim  ain't  half  as  much  to  blame 
for  running  away  and  getting  married  as  you  are, 
with  me  helping  you  at  the  last  minute.  It  won't  sur- 
prise me  in  the  least  if  she's  holding  us  responsible 

204 


THE    SHAME   OF   LOTTIE-MAY 

for  the  whole  thing.  And  she's  very  likely  to  let  us 
know  it  if  we  give  her  a  chance!" 

"Mary !"  cried  Colonel  Todhunter  aghast,  a  mas- 
culine inability  to  fathom  the  mysteries  of  the  fem- 
inine soul  revealing  itself  on  his  face.  "Do  you 
mean  to  say  that  she's  goin'  to  keep  on  blamin'  me 
for  what  Sim  Birdsong  begged  me  to  do,  almost  on 
his  knees?" 

"That's  just  what  I  do  mean!"  laughed  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter.  "And  I  can  see  it  in  Angelica's  ma's  face 
right  now !" 

"Well,  suh,"  said  the  Colonel,  "that  certainly  does 
beat  the  Dutch !  Why — why,  hang  my  picture,  I'll 
wring  that-there  Sim  Birdsong's  neck  for  him  the 
first  chance  I  get !" 

"It  ain't  Sim's  fault,"  explained  Mrs.  Todhunter 
placidly.  "A  mother's  got  to  keep  on  blaming  some- 
body in  such  cases — and  you  certainly  were  mighty 
lively  in  advising  Sim  what  to  do  in  his  trouble, 
Colonel  Todhunter!" 

"I  can't  believe  it,"  protested  the  Colonel,  dis- 
mayed. "I  can't  believe  it,  Mary!  That  there  old 
lady  ain't  got  no  more  right  to  nurse  a  grudge 
against  me  than  if  I  never  knew  there  was  two  such 

205 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

people  in  the  world  as  Sim  Birdsong  and  her  daugh- 
ter, Angelica.  If  she  forgives  Sim,  I'll  be  shot  full 
o'  holes  if  that  shorely  oughtn't  to  let  me  out!" 

But  Mrs.  Todhunter  was  right,  as  the  Colonel  dis- 
covered before  the  evening  was  over. 

"Sim,"  he  said,  at  his  first  encounter  with  the 
happy  young  husband,  "I'm  mighty  glad  to  see  you 
and  Miss  Angelica  in  company  with  her  ma.  That's 
just  the  way  things  ought  to  be,  and  I've  been  hopin' 
for  it  ever  since  the  night  you-all  got  married." 

"It  all  come  around  fine,  Colonel!"  beamed  Sim 
Birdsong.  "And  it  happened  in  the  most  natural 
way  in  the  world,  suh.  My  wife" — and  here  the 
bridegroom's  face  shone  with  an  exceeding  pride — 
"my  wife,  Colonel,  just  happened  to  go  in  town  this 
very  mornin'  to  get  some  little  somethin'  she  needed 
for  the  ball  this  evenin' — and  lo  and  behold!  Her 
ma  was  the  first  person  she  run  into !  The  next  min- 
ute they  was  a-huggin'  and  kissin'  each  other  till  the 
cows  come  home — and  Angelica's  ma  took  dinner 
with  us  right  afterwards  and  the  whole  thing  was 
patched  up  before  you  could  blink  an  eye,  suh !" 

"That's  fine— that's  fine,  Sim !"  replied  the  Colo- 
206 


THE    SHAME    OF    LOTTIE-MAY 

nel.  "It  makes  me  feel  so  good  that  I  b'lieve  I'll  go 
right  over  now  and  tell  Mrs.  Exall  just  how  glad  I 
am!" 

"Colonel,"  spoke  Sim,  suddenly  embarrassed  and 
stealing  a  frightened  look  from  Colonel  Todhunter 
to  the  distant  visage  of  his  mother-in-law,  "I  don't 
believe,  if  I  was  you,  that  I'd  do  that  right  now, 
suh." 

"If  you  was  me?"  queried  the  Colonel  indignantly. 
"What  on  earth  do  you  mean  by  that,  Sim  Bird- 
song?  Ain't  I  the  very  one,  next  to  you  and  Miss 
Angelica  herself,  suh,  that  ought  to  feel  glad  over 
this  thing?" 

Sim  Birdsong  cleared  his  throat  nervously. 
"Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  spoke  finally,  "that's  per- 
cisely  where  the  trouble  comes  in.  Angelica's  ma 
has  forgiven  us,  suh — but  she  says  she  done  it  only 
because  she  now  realizes  that  you  are  the  one  that's 
more  to  blame  than  any  one  else,  and  she  says  she 
can't  forgive  you  the  longest  day  she  lives,  suh.  I 
know  that  ain't  fair,  Colonel,  but  it  seems  to  be  the 
way  she  feels  about  it,  and  Angelica  and  I  can't  per- 
suade her  no  different !" 

207 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Colonel  Todhunter  gazed  at  Sim  Birdsong  in  deep 
silence  for  a  moment.  Then,  moving  away,  he  de- 
livered his  pained  ultimatum. 

"That  settles  it,  Sim  Birdsong!"  he  said.  "The 
next  time  you  or  any  other  moonstruck  young  fool 
here  in  Nineveh  wants  to  run  off  with  a  girl  and 
marry  her,  I  warn  you  not  to  come  to  me  unless 
you're  lookin'  for  trouble,  suh.  I'm  done  with  bein' 
a  scapegoat  for  you  young  sinners  at  my  time  o' 
life,  Sim  Birdsong,  and  that's  all  there  is  to  it.  You 
go  back  to  your  mother-in-law  and  help  her  to  run 
me  down  all  she  knows  how,  suh !" 

Saying  which,  and  refusing  to  await  the  conclusion 
of  honest  Sim  Birdsong's  disclaimer  of  the  remotest 
intention  of  joining  in  Mrs.  Exall's  condemnation 
of  him,  Colonel  Todhunter  strode  loftily  away.  But 
he  shook  with  laughter  when  he  related  the  incident 
to  Mrs.  Todhunter  relishfully. 

"Well,"  he  philosophized,  "better  me'n  them,  any- 
way, because  Angelica  needs  her  ma — and  I  can  cer- 
tainly get  along  fine  without  her.  But  it's  a  lesson 
to  me,  Mary — I  wash  my  hands  of  all  that  sort  of 
fool  business  from  this  time  henceforward,  world 
without  end,  amen!" 

208 


THE    SHAME   OF   LOTTIE-MAY 

Half  an  hour  later  Tom  Strickland  came  to  the 
colonel  with  a  troubled  face. 

"Colonel,"  he  said,  "that  little  Lottie-May  Doggett 
is  booked  for  a  mighty  unpleasant  experience  in  a 
few  minutes,  if  somebody  don't  give  her  a  friendly 
warning." 

"What's  the  matter  with  Lottie-May  now,  Tom?" 

"Well,  sir,  it's  pretty  serious.  There's  an  ugly 
story  about  her  that's  got  to  the  ears  of  the  ladies 
to-night,  something  scandalous,  in  which  the  name 
of  the  man  doesn't  seem  to  be  known,  and  I've  just 
had  a  tip  that  she's  going  to  be  asked  to  leave  the 
ball-room.  It'll  shame  her  beyond  redemption,  sir." 

"Do  you  know  the  story  ?" 

"Only  as  it's  being  whispered  around,  Colonel, 
about  some  man  being  seen  to  leave  her  house  at 
hours  of  the  night  or  early  morning,  that  can't  mean 
but  one  thing,  folks  are  claiming.  I'm  afraid  Lot- 
tie-May's in  a  bad  fix,  the  way  things  look." 

"You  ain't  mixed  up  in  this  trouble,  are  you, 
Tom?" 

Tom  Strickland  flushed.  "If  I  was,  Colonel,"  he 
replied,  "I  reckon  I'd  be  man  enough  to  try  and  get 
Lottie-May  out  of  it  myself  without  bothering  any- 

209 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

body  else.  No,  sir,  I  ain't  mixed  up  in  it.  But,  good 
Lord,  Colonel,  I  went  to  school  with  Lottie-May 
when  she  wasn't  knee-high  to  a  duck,  and  I  swear  I'd 
hate  to  see  her  publicly  disgraced.  And  you  know — 
and  I  know — it  would  hurt  old  Rafe  Doggett  so. 
It  would  break  his  heart,  sir!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  made  no  reply. 

"I  thought,  maybe,  if  you  could  get  the  chance, 
Colonel,"  resumed  Tom  anxiously,  "that  you  might 
tell  her  and  so  make  it  possible  for  her  to  slip  away 
before  the  ladies  can  do  what  they're  threatening  to 
do,  sir.  She'll  take  it  from  you,  knowing  that  her 
grandfather  was  in  your  old  regiment  and  that  you're 
telling  her  for  her  own  good,  where  she  might  flare 
up  and  kick  over  the  traces  if  anybody  else  hinted  at 
such  a  thing.  Don't  you  think  you  could  work  it, 
Colonel?" 

"If  I  do,  Tom,"  replied  Colonel  Todhunter,  "it'll 
be  for  old  Rafe  Doggett's  sake.  He's  too  good  a 
man  to  be  brought  face  to  face  with  shame  in  his  old 
age.  Yes,  I'll  try  to  do  it,  Tom — but  I'd  like  to  wring 
the  neck  of  the  young  rascal  that's  got  old  Rafe's 
granddaughter  in  such  a  mess,  suh !" 

In  accordance  with  this  promise,  Colonel  Tod- 
210 


THE    SHAME   OF   LOTTIE-MAY 

hunter  found  opportunity  to  speak  with  Lottie-May 
Doggett.  Very  frankly  he  told  her  of  the  danger  in 
which  she  stood.  The  girl,  vitally  beautiful,  ap- 
parently as  conscienceless  as  some  wild  thing  of  the 
woods,  flashed  her  hot  resentment  of  his  words. 

"I  ain't  thankin'  you  for  what  you've  just  said, 
Colonel  Todhunter !"  she  cried.  "It  strikes  me  you're 
in  mighty  small  business  to  come  to  me  with  this 
story!" 

"I  reckon  I  am,  Lottie-May,"  agreed  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  in  all  honesty.  "But  I  wanted  to  save  you 
and  your  old  grandfather  from  shame,  and  that's 
why  I  done  it." 

The  girl's  bosom  was  heaving  with  passionate  an- 
ger. "I'd  just  like  to  know  who  it  was  that  got  you 
to  come  and  speak  to  me  about  it!"  she  exclaimed. 
"Who  was  it,  Colonel  Todhunter?  Was  it  one  of 
them  ladies  what  thinks  I  ain't  good  enough  now  to 
associate  with  their  daughters?  I've  got  the  right 
to  ask  you  this,  and  I  do  ask  it.  Who  sent  you  here, 
Colonel  Todhunter?" 

"It  wasn't  none  of  the  ladies,  Lottie-May,"  Colo- 
nel Todhunter  made  answer  without  the  slightest 
hesitation.  "It  was  Tom  Strickland.  He  heard 

211 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

what  was  goin'  on,  and  he  felt  sorry  for  you,  the 
little  girl  he  went  to  school  with  when  he  was  a  boy. 
And  it  wa'n't  meddlin'  on  his  part,  either.  It  was 
plumb  good-heartedness." 

The  girl  shivered  as  if  she  had  been  struclc.  "Tom 
Strickland!"  she  repeated,  almost  as  if  speaking  to 
herself.  "Torn  Strickland — of  all  men !  He's  mak- 
in'  love  to  Miss  Mary  Todhunter,  your  own  daugh- 
ter. And  he  knows  that  I'd  lay  down  and  die  for 
him  any  day  he  give  the  word.  And  it's  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  that's  been  told  of  all  this  talk  about  me,  and 
that's  goin'  to  shame  me  here  before  all  Nineveh! 
Oh,  but  it's  a  fine  game  you-all  are  playin'  to  get  me 
where  I  can't  do  no  harm  to  Tom  Strickland  or  to 
your  daughter  Mary,  his  sweetheart!" 

She  stood  rigid,  her  hands  clenched. 

Then,  swiftly,  she  spoke  again.  "They  shan't 
ruin  me  this  way !"  she  cried.  "Neither  Tom  Strick- 
land nor  Miss  Mary  Todhunter  nor  Mrs.  Todhunter, 
nor  you,  neither!  I'll  bring  you  all  to  taw.  I'll 
make  Tom  Strickland  come  in  for  his  share  of  my 
trouble!  Since  him  and  his  sweetheart  and  his 
sweetheart's  mother  have  set  the  ball  a-rollin',  he's 
got  to  face  the  music  along  with  me !" 

212 


THE    SHAME    OF    LOTTIE-MAY 

"What  do  you  mean?"  exclaimed  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter. 

All  color  had  gone  out  of  the  girl's  face  as  she 
spoke. 

"I'll  show  you  what  I  mean !"  she  half -whispered, 
her  fingers  fluttering  at  her  throat.  "I'll  show  you! 
I  ain't  a  good  girl  no  more,  Colonel  Todhunter.  I 
ain't  fitten  to  breathe  the  same  air  with  your  daugh- 
ter Mary.  Tom  Strickland  and  the  rest  of  'em's 
mighty  anxious  to  get  me  out  of  the  way.  I'm 
a-goin',  too.  But  not  till  I've  said  my  little  say  to 
Mrs.  Todhunter,  sir.  Not  till  then — not  even  if 
judgment  day  and  hell  itself  come  to  me  the  next 
minute !" 

"Stop  that,  Lottie-May !"  cried  Colonel  Todhunter 
sternly.  "You  can't  talk  that  way  without  reason — 
and  you  ain't  got  no  reason  to  say  what  you've  just 
said  about  Tom  Strickland!" 

For  a  reply  the  girl  laughed  in  his  face — and  tfie 
next  instant  she  had  darted  past  him. 

Her  head  high,  her  eyes  flashing,  her  little  hands 
clenched  at  her  side,  her  frame  all  a-quiver  with  ex- 
citement, Lottie-May  sped  ominously  to  where  Mrs. 
Todhunter  stood  with  a  group  of  other  Nineveh 

213 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

ladies,  Mary  Todhunter  standing  close  behind  her 
mother. 

"Mrs.  Todhunter,"  said  the  outcast  girl,  her  eyes 
defiantly  holding  those  of  the  person  whom  she  ad- 
dressed, "I  understand  that  you  want  me  to  leave 
this  party  because  you  think  I  ain't  fitten  to  be  here 
— that  I'm  a  bad  woman.  Ain't  that  so,  ma'am?" 

Mrs.  Todhunter  was  at  first  shocked  into  shrink- 
ing from  the  girl.  Then  she  looked  at  her  pityingly. 

"Lottie-May,"  she  replied,  with  a  frank  dignity, 
"I'm  sorry  you've  made  such  a  scene.  It  is  true  that 
we  think  you  should  not  be  here.  But  I  was  going 
to  tell  you  this  privately,  to  spare  you  as  much  as 
possible — " 

"No,  you  wa'n't!"  interrupted  the  girl  passion- 
ately. "You  was  a-goin'  to  put  all  the  shame  on  me 
you  could!  But  I'll  say  my  say  before  you  do  it, 
Mrs.  Todhunter.  And  I  ain't  denyin'  anything, 
either,  nor  I  ain't  a-beggin'  any  of  you  for  mercy. 
You're  goin'  to  make  me  pay  for  my  sin,  ain't  you  ? 
— me,  the  sinful  daughter  of  a  sinful  mother?  But 
why  don't  you  make  the  man  pay  at  the  same  time, 
Mrs.  Todhunter?  That's  what  I'm  asking  you. 
Why  don't  you  make  the  man  pay,  too  ?" 

214 


THE    SHAME    OF    LOTTIE-MAY 

A  dead  silence  followed  these  words. 

"Maybe  you  don't  know  who  the  man  is?"  in- 
quired the  girl.  "Maybe  you  can't  name  him  ?  May- 
be that's  the  reason  you  ain't  doin'  nor  sayin'  nothin' 
against  him?" 

There  was  no  reply. 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  who  he  is !"  cried  the  girl — 
and  at  this  her  voice  broke  and  her  fingers  again 
went  fluttering  to  her  throat.  "I'll  tell  you  his  name ! 
It's  Tom  Strickland,  the  man  that  wants  to  marry 
your  daughter,  Miss  Mary  Todhunter,  ma'am — it's 
Tom  Strickland,  that's  wh©  it  is !" 

A  piteous  little  cry  came  from  Mary  Todhunter. 
Lottie-May  Doggett  heard  it  and  laughed. 

"Now  you've  got  it  good  and  plenty — both  of 
you — more'n  you  bargained  for!"  she  cried  taunt- 
ingly. Already  she  had  moved  toward  the  nearest 
door.  Her  reckless  eyes  were  full  of  scornful  de- 
fiance. 

"Make  the  man  pay,  too!"  she  flung  back  at  the 
group  of  which  now  a  mother  and  her  downward- 
swaying  daughter  were  the  central  figures.  "Make 
Tom  Strickland  pay — along  with  me !" 

The  next  moment  she  was  gone. 
215 


CHAPTER  XV 

THE  TRAGEDY  ON  THE  BLACK  BOTTOMS  ROAD 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  saw  Tom  Strick- 
land spring  to  Mary's  side,  catch  her  in  his 
arms,  and,  thus  holding  her,   face  the  group  of 
women  who  had  fallen  back  from  him. 

The  next  moment  Mrs.  Todhunter  had  passed  her 
own  arms  around  the  girl,  letting  her  sink  into  a 
chair  that  had  been  brought.  The  mother's  face  was 
stern  in  condemnation. 

"For  shame !"  she  said  to  Tom.  "You  are  not  fit 
to  touch  her.  For  shame,  sir !" 

Tom  Strickland's  face  grew  white.  His  eyes,  that 
had  met  those  of  Mary  in  mute  entreaty,  held  Mrs. 
Todhunter's  indignantly.  For  an  instant  he  seemed 
about  to  speak.  But  the  elder  lady  bent  above  her 
daughter,  obviously  ignoring  him.  The  widening 
group  of  women  looked  at  him  with  accusing  eyes. 
Lottie-May  Doggett's  dreadful  charge  seemed  still 
ringing  in  the  air. 

216 


THE    TRAGEDY    ON    THE    ROAD 

Apparently  bewildered,  Tom  Strickland  turned 
away,  his  helpless  glance  resting  for  a  breath  of  time 
on  Mary's  face.  The  shock  and  shame  of  what  the 
girl  had  just  heard  were  shown  in  the  look  that  met 
his.  Then  she  averted  her  gaze  and  Tom  Strickland 
left  her  side,  the  women  whispering  behind  him.  He 
came  direct  to  Colonel  Todhunter. 

"I  must  see  you,  Colonel,"  he  muttered  brokenly. 
"You  heard  everything,  didn't  you?" 

The  Colonel  nodded,  studying  the  speaker  closely, 
as  they  moved  away. 

"What  is  it,  Tom?"  he  asked.  "What  can  I  do 
for  you?" 

Tom  Strickland  laughed  bitterly.  "Nothing,"  he 
replied.  "But  I  must  tell  you  the  only  thing  I  can 
do  for  myself.  I've  got  to  see  Stamford  Tucker  and 
choke  the  truth  out  of  him !" 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"I  mean  that  he's  got  to  tell  the  truth  and  face  this 
scandal  in  my  place.  He's  the  one  that's  responsible, 
not  I.  God  only  knows  what  possessed  Lottie-May 
Doggett  to  lay  her  disgrace  at  my  door !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  drew  a  quick  sigh  of  relief. 
"If  that's  the  truth,  Tom,  you're  all  right,  and  I  must 

217 


say  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,  because  the  case  looks  mighty 
ugly  for  you  otherwise.  I'll  have  to  speak  plainly, 
Tom,  as  Mary's  father.  If  you've  got  the  proofs 
that'll  call  Stam  Tucker  to  time,  produce  'em  right 
now." 

The  younger  man  looked  the  speaker  in  the  face, 
a  white-hot  anger  in  his  eyes.  Then,  suddenly, 
doubt  and  something  of  dismay  took  the  place  of 
rage.  At  last  he  laughed,  mockingly,  as  if  at  him- 
self. 

"I  haven't  got  a  shred  of  proof,"  he  said,  "unless 
my  own  conviction,  from  what  Lottie-May  herself 
has  told  me,  can  give  a  hold  on  Stam  Tucker  that'll 
make  him  toe  the  mark.  I've  got  the  girl's  word 
that  Stam  Tucker  made  love  to  her,  and  that  she 
met  him  in  secret." 

"And  Lottie-May  has  just  publicly  accused  you," 
commented  Colonel  Todhunter,  a  curious  expression 
in  his  eyes  as  they  rested  upon  Tom  Strickland's  pale 
face.  "That's  mighty  poor  evidence,  Tom.  The 
girl  has  made  it  worthless  in  advance.  Nobody  on 
earth  would  believe  you." 

Tom  Strickland  lifted  one  clenched  hand  and 
smote  it  savagely  into  the  open  palm  of  the  other. 

218 


THE   TRAGEDY    ON    THE   ROAD 

"Nobody  but  Stam  Tucker!"  he  cried.  "He'll 
know  it's  the  truth,  and  he'll  know  that  Lottie-May 
told  me  because  she  was  trying  to  make  me  his 
rival.  And  he's  got  to  confess  that  it's  the  truth 
—by  God,  I'll  kill  him  if  he  don't !" 

"Stop  right  there,  Tom!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  sternly.  "You're  makin'  the  biggest  fool  of 
yourself  that's  possible  on  all  this  earth  to  a  man  in 
your  fix,  suh !" 

"Fool  or  no  fool,"  cried  Tom  Strickland,  "I'm  not 
going  to  let  this  thing  lay  at  my  door  when  I  know 
the  guilty  man — and  know,  besides,  that  he  wouldn't 
ask  nothing  better'n  for  Miss  Mary  to  throw  me 
over  on  account  of  this,  so  that  he  could  marry  her. 
That's  the  situation,  Colonel  Todhunter,  and  no  man 
fit  to  be  called  a  man  would  let  Stam  Tucker  go 
free!" 

"If  you  go  lookin'  for  Stam  Tucker  now,  Tom," 
said  Colonel  Todhunter  quietly,  "there'll  be  a  shoot- 
in'  scrape  in  less'n  two  minutes  after  you  two  come 
together,  and  somebody's  mighty  apt  to  get  killed. 
If  it's  you,  the  difficulty  ain't  helped  you  any,  that 
I  can  see.  If  it's  Stam  Tucker,  then  you're  worse 
off'n  ever,  because  he'll  be  dead  and  you'll  be  held 

219 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

for  killin'  him,  and  Lottie-May  Doggett's  accusation 
will  stand  against  you.  Have  some  sense,  my  boy, 
before  it's  too  late." 

Tom  Strickland  laughed  at  the  words.  "I'll  have 
sense  enough,"  he  retorted.  "I'll  see  that  Stam 
Tucker  don't  profit  by  this  thing.  And  there's  only 
one  way  to  see  to  it — and  that's  by  having  it  out  with 
Stam  Tucker  himself  and  making  him  tell  the  truth. 
You  can't  interfere  in  this  matter,  sir,  even  though 
you  are  Miss  Mary's  father.  No  third  party  can 
take  a  hand  in  it,  sir." 

Colonel  Todhunter  contemplated  the  speaker  ear- 
nestly for  a  moment.  Then  he  nodded. 

"You're  right,  Tom,"  he  conceded.  "I  reckon 
you'n  Stam  Tucker '11  have  to  sift  this  out  between 
you,  and  th'  ain't  nobody  else  can  lift  a  finger.  But 
I've  just  got  one  favor  to  ask  of  you  before  you  go 
any  further,  my  boy." 

"What's  that,  sir?"  asked  Tom.  "I  don't  mean 
to  be  disrespectful,  Colonel,  and  I'm  willing  to  meet 
you  as  far  as  I  can,  but  you  see  now  just  how  things 
are  between  Stam  Tucker  and  me." 

"I'm  not  saying  another  word,"  answered  Colonel 
Todhunter.  "The  only  thing  I  want  you  to  do,  Tom, 

220 


THE   TRAGEDY    ON    THE    ROAD 

is  not  to  go  lookin'  for  Stam  Tucker  to-night  In 
the  first  place,  he's  right  here,  and  you  ain't  got  no 
business  runnin'  the  chance  of  provokin'  a  serious 
personal  difficulty  where  there's  women,  and  in  the 
second  place,  you'd  better  get  a  night's  sleep  for  your 
own  good,  Tom.  I'm  talkin'  plain  to  you,  my  boy, 
because  a  good  deal  depends  on  it.  The  chances  are 
a  million  to  one  that  there'll  be  some  shootin'  before 
you'n  Stam  Tucker  gets  through  with  your  argu- 
ment— and  a  cool  head  and  a  steady  hand  are  mighty 
useful  things  to  have  at  such  a  time." 

"I'm  cool  enough,  sir,"  replied  Tom  Strickland. 

But  the  Colonel  shook  his  head.  "Tom,"  he  said, 
"I  want  you  to  promise  me  to  go  quietly  home  right 
now  and  go  to  bed.  After  to-night,  the  game's  in 
your  own  hands  and  you  can  play  it  any  way  you 
see  fit.  This  is  all  I'm  goin'  to  ask  of  you.  Go  home 
and  get  a  good  night's  rest,  Tom."  There  was  just 
the  least  shake  in  the  speaker's  voice. 

Tom  Strickland  hesitated. 

"Go  home,  Tom,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter.  "I 
wouldn't  be  a  true  friend  of  your  father  if  I  let  you 
take  any  foolish  chances  in  an  affair  of  this  kind. 
And  I'm  thinkin'  of  Mary,  too,  when  I  say  this.  You 

221 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

go  home,  now."  The  Colonel's  grim  lips  were  trem- 
bling a  little. 

Tom  Strickland  nodded.  "All  right,  Colonel,"  he 
spoke  finally.  "I'll  go  home.  I  won't  try  to  do  any- 
thing further  until  to-morrow,  sir." 

"That's  all  I  ask,  Tom,"  replied  the  Colonel. 

But  he  saw  to  it  that  the  younger  man  got  away 
from  the  perilous  scene  without  being  subjected  to 
temptation  that  might  compel  him  to  break  his  word. 
And  then,  knowing  that  Tom  Strickland  was  safely 
on  the  road  home,  Colonel  Todhunter  looked  up  Sim 
Birdsong  without  losing  a  moment's  time. 

"Sim,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  see  Stam  Tucker 
to-night  without  fail  and  tell  him  not  to  come  into 
town  to-morrow.  Just  say  this  to  him — that  Tom 
Strickland's  lookin'  for  him  on  account  o'  this  here 
Lottie-May  Doggett  business,  and  there's  a-goin'  to 
be  trouble  if  they  meet — and  then  you  come  back 
here  and  tell  me  what  he  says.  I'm  tryin'  to  prevent 
a  shootin'  scrape,  Sim,  and  this  is  the  only  way  I 
can  see  to  do  it." 

"All  right,  Colonel,"  replied  Sim.  "I'll  look  up 
Stam  Tucker  right  away  and  deliver  your  message, 
then  I'll  report  to  you  again,  suh." 

222 


THE   TRAGEDY    ON    THE   ROAD 

"I'll  just  be  eternally  condemned,"  communed 
Colonel  Todhunter  to  himself  when  Sim  had  de- 
parted on  his  mission,  "if  any  other  man  meddled  in 
a  serious  private  difficulty  of  mine  like  I'm  meddlin' 
in  this  of  Tom  Strickland's,  I'd  tell  him  in  pretty 
plain  language  what  I  thought  of  his  interference, 
even  if  I  was  engaged  to  his  daughter.  But  I  ain't 
got  no  choice  in  the  matter.  I  want  to  save  Tom 
and  keep  Mary's  heart  from  bein'  broken,  and  I 
want  to  save  old  Bill  Strickland  from  such  a  tragedy 
as  this  would  be,  and  I've  got  to  take  the  bull  by  the 
horns  to  do  it.  I'll  keep  those  two  young  fools  apart 
if  I've  got  to  break  my  neck  a-doin'  it !" 

Sim  Birdsong  was  not  gone  long.  "Well,  Colo- 
nel," he  said  upon  returning,  "I've  just  seen  Stam 
Tucker  and  told  him  what  you  said,  and  he  told  me 
to  say  to  you  that  he  wouldn't  come  in  town  at  all 
to-morrow.  Says  he  don't  want  to  have  any  trouble 
with  Tom  Strickland  now,  if  he  can  help  it,  because 
it  would  be  serious  trouble,  and  he  ain't  in  the  humor 
for  it  just  at  present." 

"Sim,"  asked  the  Colonel,  "what  did  Stam  do  or 
say  when  you  told  him  that  it  was  on  account  of  Lot- 
tie-May that  Tom  was  lookin'  for  him?" 

223 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  replied  Sim,  "he  got  white 
clean  to  his  lips.  I  never  saw  a  man's  face  go  white 
as  quick  as  his'n.  But  he  didn't  make  no  comment 
on  that  part  of  the  message,  suh.  He  just  stood  still 
for  a  minute  when  I  got  through,  and  then  he  told 
me  what  I've  just  said  to  you." 

A  look  of  deep  relief  sprang  into  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter's  face.  "That's  all  right,  then,"  he  spoke. 
"And  it  tells  me  what  I  wanted  to  know.  Now,  Sim, 
I'm  goin'  to  ask  you  if  you  can't  contrive  some  plan 
that'll  take  Stam  Tucker  away  from  Nineveh  and 
keep  him  away,  for  a  few  days,  at  least.  If  we  can 
do  that,  Sim,  we  may  be  able  to  prevent  the  trouble 
altogether." 

Sim  Birdsong  looked  at  the  speaker  with  some- 
thing of  helpless  bewilderment  in  his  honest  eyes. 
Then,  suddenly,  his  face  brightened. 

"I-crackey,  I've  got  it!"  he  exclaimed.  "Some 
of  the  boys  was  arrangin'  this  very  night  for  a  fish- 
in'  frolic  down  on  Black  Bottoms  Lake,  and  they 
planned  to  start  before  sunrise  day  after  to-morrow. 
I'll  make  'em  count  Stam  Tucker  in  on  the  deal,  and 
I'll  go  out  to  the  Tuckers'  and  give  him  their  invita- 
tion myself,  to-morrow,  and  see  that  he  consents  to 

224 


THE    TRAGEDY    ON    THE    ROAD 

go.  Then,  Colonel,  all  we've  got  to  do  is  just  keep 
him  and  Tom  apart  for  one  day  and  night — and 
we've  turned  the  trick !" 

"Bully  for  you,  Sim!"  approved  the  Colonel.  "It 
begins  to  look  like  we  can  see  this  thing  through  to 
a  sensible  finish — and  that's  a  blamed  sight  more 
than  it  looked  like  to  me  a  few  minutes  ago,  I  can 
tell  you!" 

Shortly  after  noon  the  next  day,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  stopped  in  at  the  Stricklands'  on  his  way 
home,  as  was  not  unusual  for  him  to  do.  In  reply  to 
an  apparently  careless  question,  Margaret  Strick- 
land, Tom's  elder  sister,  told  him  that  Tom  had  gone 
into  town  soon  after  breakfast. 

Colonel  Todhunter  returned  into  Nineveh  at  once, 
after  explaining  to  Margaret  Strickland  that  he  had 
forgotten  to  execute  certain  housekeeping  missions 
for  Mrs.  Todhunter  before  driving  out.  But  he 
found  no  trace  of  Tom  Strickland  until  he  came  to 
a  certain  bar-room  frequented  mainly  by  the  Yancey 
and  Tucker  factions  in  politics. 

"Colonel,"  said  the  bartender,  in  answer  to  a  ques- 
tion, "Tom  Strickland  was  in  here,  sir,  about  two 
hours  ago,  lookin'  for  Stam  Tucker.  Not  findin' 

225 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

him,  and  waitin'  here  quite  a  while  in  hopes  of  his 
turnin'  up,  he  wrote  a  note  yonder  at  that  table  and 
sent  it  out  by  one  of  the  town  boys  to  Stam's  house. 
Then  he  went  away,  sir." 

"Have  you  any  idea  where  he  went  ?" 

The  bartender  hesitated  for  a  moment.  Then — 
"Well,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  he  said  at  last,  "I  be- 
lieve, from  the  way  he  was  talkin',  that  he  went  to 
see  that  girl,  Lottie-May  Doggett,  that  the  scandal's 
about  now,  sir.  He  was  drinkin'  pretty  heavy, 
Colonel,  and  he  talked  pretty  threatenin'  about  Stam 
Tucker,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  two  things 
was  connected  in  some  way — his  trouble  with  Stam 
and  his  trouble  with  the  girl.  I'm  inclined  to  think 
there's  a  difficulty  brewin',  Colonel!" 

Leaving  the  bar-room,  Colonel  Todhunter  drove 
directly  out  to  old  Rafe  Doggett's  place.  Neither 
the  girl  nor  her  grandfather  was  at  home.  Returning 
into  Nineveh  he  encountered  Sim  Birdsong,  who 
wore  an  anxious  face. 

"I've  just  seen  Stam  Tucker,  suh,"  cried  Sim. 
"We  aren't  a  bit  too  soon  in  layin'  our  plans  to  pre- 
vent trouble,  Colonel  Todhunter.  He's  just  got  a 
note  from  Tom  Strickland  tellin'  him  to  come  into 

226 


THE   TRAGEDY    ON    THE    ROAD 

town  to-night  if  he  don't  want  to  have  serious 
trouble  at  his  own  home  instead,  so  it's  plain  that 
Tom  Strickland's  on  the  warpath,  suh." 

"What's  Stam  Tucker  goin'  to  do?" 

"He  ain't  goin'  into  town,  Colonel.  He  told  me 
that  he  had  an  engagement  to  call  on  a  young  lady, 
so  he  wouldn't  be  at  home  anyway,  if  Tom  came 
there  lookin'  for  him,  and,  besides,  he  says  he'll  do 
most  anything  to  prevent  trouble  just  at  this  time. 
He's  as  anxious  to  get  away  on  that  fishin'  frolic 
as  we  are  to  have  him  get  away,  Colonel  Todhunter." 

"I'm  powerful  glad  to  hear  it,"  commented  the 
Colonel.  "Well,  with  Stam  Tucker  not  goin'  into 
town,  and  not  stayin'  at  home,  and  Tom  Strickland 
not  knowin'  where  he's  to  be  found,  I  reckon  things 
are  pretty  tolerable  safe  for  to-night.  But  don't  you 
fail  to  get  Stam  off  on  that  fishing  jaunt  before  day- 
break to-morrow,  Sim!" 

"I  won't,  suh,"  promised  Sim  Birdsong  earnestly. 
"I'll  get  him  if  I  have  to  drag  him  by  the  scruff 
o'  the  neck!" 

Arising  early  the  next  morning,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  drew  in  a  deep  breath  of  fresh  air,  grateful 
of  soul. 

227 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Thank  the  Lord!"  he  said  to  himself.  "Stam 
Tucker's  gone  with  Sim  and  the  other  boys,  and 
we've  got  a  few  days'  breathin'  time,  anyway,  be- 
fore there's  any  further  danger !" 

But,  even  as  Colonel  Todhunter  thus  spoke,  young 
Stamford  Tucker  lay  dead  at  home.  He  had  been 
shot  the  night  before,  and  Tom  Strickland  now  was 
held  a  prisoner  in  the  little  Nineveh  jail,  accused  of 
his  murder. 


228 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE  WOMAN  IN  THE  CASE 

A  MESSENGER  bearing  these  dreadful  tidings 
arrived  as  the  Colonel  stood  on  the  front  gal- 
lery enjoying  the  freshness  of  the  morning.     He 
came  from  Tom  Strickland  himself. 

Colonel  Todhunter  received  the  news  in  silence, 
his  gray  brows  bent  until  his  eyes  were  but  two  glints 
of  metallic  blue-gray  beneath ;  his  grim  lips  set  in  an 
inflexible  line. 

"Tell  Tom  I'll  be  with  him  right  away,"  he  said 
at  the  story's  completion.  "And  tell  him  to  keep 
his  courage  up — I'm  going  to  do  everything  I  can 
for  him." 

Nevertheless,  the  Colonel's  own  heart  was  heavy, 
for  Mary's  sake,  for  Tom's  dire  peril,  and  knowing 
well  that  it  would  all  come  near  to  breaking  the  heart 
of  Colonel  Bill  Strickland,  his  lifelong  friend. 
But  it  was  no  time  to  sit  in  cold  judgment  upon 
Tom's  sin.  The  boy  must  receive  all  the  help  that 
was  in  the  power  of  mortal  man  to  give. 

229 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Halting  a  moment  at  the  Nineveh  Hotel  to  send 
a  telegram  to  the  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland, 
now  himself  compaigning  in  northern  Missouri, 
Colonel  Todhunter  then  hurried  to  the  jail.  The  mo- 
ment his  eyes  fell  on  Tom  Strickland's  face  he  knew 
that  the  lad  had  been  drinking  heavily.  The  two 
clasped  hands  and  stood  facing  each  other  in  silence. 
At  last  the  Colonel  spoke. 

"Tom,"  he  said,  "I  want  to  tell  you  at  the  start 
that  I'm  goin'  to  accept  every  word  you  say  as  gos- 
pel, and  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the  whole  truth.  Then, 
while  we're  waitin'  for  your  father  to  get  here,  I'll 
know  better  what  to  do  in  beginnin'  arrangements 
for  your  defense.  You  must  tell  me  the  God's  truth, 
my  boy." 

Tom  Strickland's  plucky  eyes,  unflickering, 
though  still  bloodshot  from  overnight  drinking,  held 
those  of  the  speaker  in  a  level  glance. 

"I'll  tell  yon  the  truth,  Colonel,"  he  answered.  "I 
won't  vary  from  it  by  a  hair  if  I  know  it." 

"How  did  the  meetin'  between  you  and  Stam 
Tucker  come  about,  Tom?"  asked  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  "Tell  me  just  when  and  how  you  killed 
him." 

230 


THE    WOMAN    IN    THE    CASE 

"Colonel,"  replied  Tom  Strickland,  "I  have  no 
recollection  of  killing  Stam  Tucker  last  night.  I 
don't  even  remember  meeting  him." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?" 

"I  mean  that  I  started  out  to  meet  Stam,  and  that 
it  was  my  intention  to  kill  him  if  he  didn't  publicly 
tell  the  truth  about  him  and  Lottie-May  Doggett, 
but  I  ain't  clear  in  my  mind  as  to  what  happened 
after  I  left  Nick  Bledsoe's  bar-room.  I  got  to  drink- 
ing there,  thinking  while  I  was  waiting  for  Stam 
Tucker  to  keep  an  appointment  that  I  made  by  letter, 
and  I  got  tired  waiting  for  Stam  to  show  up,  so  I 
started  out  to  go  to  his  house,  seeing  as  how  he 
wouldn't  come  to  the  place  I  had  named.  This 
much  I  remember,  and  I've  got  a  confused  recollec- 
tion of  wandering  about  the  edge  of  town,  but  the 
first  thing  I  remember  with  any  distinctness  after 
leaving  Nick  Bledsoe's,  is  finding  myself  in  the 
Nineveh  Hotel  bar-room,  drinking  again.  Whatever 
happened  between  is  gone  from  my  memory — I  was 
drinking  hard,  Colonel  Todhunter,  and  that's  all 
there  is  to  it.  I  started  drinking  because  I  had  lost 
—well,  I  didn't  care  what  happened  to  me,  sir,"  Tom 
concluded. 

231 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"You  were  armed,  of  course,  when  you  went  to 
meet  Stam  and  have  it  out  with  him?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  had  my  pistol  on  me." 

"Well,  then — well,  then,  Tom — when  you  were 
arrested  this  mornin'  after  Stam  Tucker's  body  was 
found  on  the  side  of  the  road  half-way  between  his 
home  and  the  town,  what  story  did  your  gun  tell, 
boy?  If  you  had  had  a  shootin'  scrape  durin'  that 
time,  your  weapon  would  have  said  so — a  man  in 
your  condition,  with  this  difficulty  settled,  wouldn't 
have  reloaded  his  gun.  What  fix  was  yours  in, 
Tom?" 

"That  was  the  first  thing  the  deputy  sheriff  looked 
at  when  he  placed  me  under  arrest,"  said  Tom 
Strickland,  his  eyes  dumbly  perplexed.  "Colonel 
Todhunter,  one  chamber  of  my  pistol  was  empty — 
I  reckon  I  must  surely  have  met  Stam  on  the  road 
and  killed  him." 

"Tom,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  almost  plead- 
ingly, "whatever  way  Stam  Tucker  was  killed,  he 
got  one  shot  at  the  man  that  killed  him.  His  own 
weapon  was  a-layin'  right  at  his  hand  when  they 
found  him,  and  one  bullet  had  been  fired  from  it. 
In  God's  name,  my  boy,  if  you  was  that  other  man, 

232 


THE    WOMAN    IN   THE   CASE 

you  must  have  some  sort  of  recollection  of  the  shoot- 
in'  scrape.  It's  the  truth  I'm  tryin'  to  get  at,  Tom, 
the  truth  of  how  Stam  Tucker  came  to  his  death. 
If  you  killed  him,  we've  got  to  know  it,  because  the 
whole  line  of  defense  has  got  to  be  based  on  absolute 
knowledge  of  the  truth  of  whether  or  not  it  was  you 
that  shot  and  killed  Stam  Tucker  last  night.  Dig 
down  in  your  mind,  Tom — my  God,  boy,  you've  got 
to  remember  everything  you  did  every  minute  of 
the  time  you  say  you  was  out  lookin'  for  Stam 
Tucker!" 

Tom  Strickland  drew  a  deep  breath.  "It  must 
have  been  me  that  killed  him,"  he  said.  "I  was  on 
my  way  to  do  it — and  who  else  wanted  to  kill  him  ? 
But  I  can't  remember  anything  about  it,  Colonel 
Todhunter— I'd  be  glad  if  I  could!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  sat  helpless  for  a  moment. 
Finally — "Did  you  go  home  after  the  hotel  bar  was 
closed  ?"  he  asked. 

"No,  sir.     I  slept  at  the  hotel  last  night." 

"What  time  were  you  arrested?" 

"About  six  o'clock." 

"Yesterday  afternoon,  when  you  had  been  to  Nick 
Bledsoe's  bar-room  for  the  first  time,  did  you  then  go 

233 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

out  to  see  Lottie-May  Doggett,  as  you  told  Nick 
you  was  a-goin'  to  do  ?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Did  you  see  her?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  asked  her  to  tell  the  truth  and  ac- 
knowledge that  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  her  dis- 
grace. I  told  her  if  she  didn't  I  was  going  to  see 
Stam  Tucker  and  make  him  do  it,  or  else  kill  him." 

"What  did  she  say  to  that  ?" 

"She  laughed  at  me.  That  girl's  a  she-devil, 
Colonel  Todhunter.  She  wouldn't  even  acknowl- 
edge to  me  that  she  had  lied  in  telling  Mrs.  Todhun- 
ter what  she  did.  She  just  laughed." 

"You  also  hinted  to  Nick  Bledsoe  that  there  was 
some  serious  trouble  brewin'  between  you  and  Stam 
about  Lottie-May,  didn't  you?" 

"I  believe  I  did,  sir." 

"And  you  told  him  you  were  bound  for  Stam 
Tucker's  when  you  left  his  bar-room  last  night?" 

"I  seem  to  remember  saying  something  of  the 
sort,  Colonel  Todhunter.  I  reckon  I  gave  him  a 
pretty  good  inkling  of  the  whole  affair." 

"The  man  you  sent  to  tell  me  of  your  arrest  says 
that  Stam  Tucker's  mother  and  sister  says  that 

234 


THE    WOMAN    IN    THE    CASE 

Stam  left  his  home  about  the  same  time,  accordin' 
to  Nick  Bledsoe's  story,  that  you  left  Nick's  place 
to  go  out  there." 

"It's  likely,  sir,  that  he  was  coming  in  to  meet  me, 
in  answer  to  my  letter." 

"Tom,  that  would  have  brought  you  and  Stam 
Tucker  together  about  half-way  between  his  home 
and  the  town." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  Stam's  body  was  found  beside  the  road  just 
about  half-way  between  his  home  and  the  town." 

"I  know  it,  Colonel.  The  evidence  against  me  is 
about  as  complete  as  it  could  be,  unless  somebody 
saw  me  kill  Stam.  I  wish  they  did,  if  I  killed  him. 
It  wouldn't  look  so  much  like  a  cold-blooded  murder 
in  the  dark  then." 

Colonel  Todhunter  went  direct  from  the  jail  to 
the  home  of  Lottie-May  Doggett.  This  time  he 
found  the  girl  there. 

She  met  him  with  a  defiant  look  in  her  eyes,  but 
it  seemed  to  Colonel  Todhunter  that  there  was  some- 
thing of  dread  as  well,  and  her  manner,  despite  a 
certain  bravado,  suggested  a  haunting  fear. 

"If  it's  grandfather  you  want  to  see,  Colonel  Tod- 
235 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

hunter,"  she  said,  her  voice  not  quite  steady,  "he 
ain't  at  home  right  now.  He  got  some  work  helpin' 
Lute  Burroughs  with  his  hosses,  and  it  keeps  him 
over  there  most  o'  the  daytime." 

"It  ain't  your  grandfather,  Lottie-May,"  replied 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "It's  you  I  come  to  see.  But 
I  wish  he  was  here,  because  I  reckon  I've  got  to 
have  a  right  plain  talk  with  you  and  I'd  rather  Rafe 
was  present  while  we're  a-havin'  it." 

The  girl  shrank  back  suddenly.  "Then  maybe 
you  better  call  again,"  she  quickly  suggested,  un- 
easiness and  the  hope  of  delay  expressed  in  her  face. 
"It'll  keep  till  some  time  when  he's  home,  surely, 
Colonel  Todhunter." 

"No,  Lottie-May,  it  won't.  That's  why  I've  come 
straight  out  to  see  you,  after  leavin'  Tom  Strick- 
land a  prisoner  in  the  Nineveh  jail.  Stam  Tucker's 
been  shot  and  killed  and  Tom's  accused  of  murderin' 
him,  Lottie-May." 

The  girl  gave  a  little  cry,  whitening  to  the  lips. 
She  stood  facing  the  Colonel  with  horror-widened 
eyes. 

"Lottie-May,"  continued  Colonel  Todhunter,  "the 
time  has  come  when  you  must  tell  the  truth  about 

236 


THE    WOMAN    IN    THE    CASE 

Tom  Strickland.  His  life's  in  danger,  not  to  speak 
of  his  bein'  disgraced  through  what  you  said  about 
him — and  your  story  caused  him  to  be  lookin'  for 
trouble  with  Stam  Tucker — and  we've  got  to  know 
the  truth  as  to  whether  it  was  him  or  Stam  Tucker 
that  you  had  the  right  to  accuse  before  everybody 
at  the  party  that  night." 

A  sudden  light  of  fiery  venom  leaped  into  Lottie- 
May  Doggett's  passionate  eyes. 

"It  ain't  me  that's  to  blame!"  she  cried.  "Tom 
Strickland  wanted  to  kill  Stam  Tucker  because  he 
knew  that  Stam  Tucker  would  marry  Miss  Mary 
Todhunter,  your  daughter,  now  that  she's  got  to 
throw  him  over.  It's  her  that's  to  blame  for  the 
killin',  not  me !" 

Something  came  into  the  girl's  throat  that  seemed 
to  choke  her.  She  threw  her  hands  up  to  her  eyes 
and  began  sobbing. 

"He  wa'n't  thinkin'  about  me  at  all!"  she  cried 
brokenly.  "And  'Stain  Tucker  didn't  really  care 
nothin'  for  me,  neither.  They  was  both  of  'em 
thinkin'  about  Miss  Mary  Todhunter — I  ain't  noth- 
in' but  poor  white  trash  in  their  eyes,  to  be  used 
and  th'owed  to  one  side.  And  Tom  Strickland 

237 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

knows  I  loved  him  with  all  my  heart  and  all  my 
soul!"  Here  her  voice  broke  pitifully. 

Then — "And  he  wouldn't  ha'  known  anything 
about  Stam  Tucker's  makin'  love  to  me  if  I  hadn't 
told  him  myself!  Yet  he  don't  think  nothin'  about 
mei — it's  only  how  he  can  clear  his  own  skirts  by 
loadin'  the  blame  on  Stam.  And  if  he  killed  him, 
he  killed  him  for  your  daughter  Mary's  sake,  out  o' 
jealousy,  and  nothin'  else  in  the  wide  world !  Well, 
I've  done  said  my  say,  and  you-all  got  to  take  it  for 
the  truth  whether  you're  willin'  or  not.  Stam 
Tucker's  dead  and  gone,  but  that  ain't  a-goin'  to 
clear  the  way  for  Tom  Strickland  to  marry  Miss 
Mary  Todhunter.  I've  told  her  mother  the  truth, 
and  you  and  Mrs.  Todhunter  can't  let  her  marry 
Tom  Strickland  with  the  blame  for  my  ruination 
restin'  on  his  good  name." 

She  threw  back  her  head  and  laughed  at  him 
mockingly. 

"You've  come  here  to  make  me  help  you  get  Tom 
Strickland  out  o'  danger,  ain't  you,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter? You're  just  like  all  the  rest  of  'em.  I'm 
settled  and  done  for.  I'm  dirt  under  you-all's  feet. 
But  maybe  I  can  help  save  Tom  Strickland  if  I  tell 

238 


"He's  got  just  one  chance  for  his  life"    Page  238 


THE    WOMAN    IN    THE   CASE 

the  right  sort  of  a  story — that's  it,  ain't  it?  Well,  I 
ain't  goin'  to  do  it,  Colonel  Todhunter !" 

"Tom  Strickland's  got  just  one  chance  for  his 
life,  Lottie-May,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "and 
that  is,  to  prove  that  you  accused  him  of  a  sin  that 
ought  to  ha'  been  laid  at  Stam  Tucker's  door  in- 
stead, and  that  he  quarreled  with  Stam  and  killed 
him  for  refusin'  to  acknowledge  publicly  that  this 
was  the  truth.  Even  this  ain't  much  of  a  chance, 
but  if  we  don't  get  it,  Tom  Strickland's  goin'  to  the 
gallows  just  as  certain  as  the  sun  rises  and  sets.  If 
you  told  what  ain't  so,  Lottie-May,  his  blood  will  be 
on  your  head." 

The  girl  shrank  back  and  shivered  as  if  she  had 
been  struck.  Then,  again,  the  hard  mocking  light 
leaped  into  her  eyes  and  she  laughed  aloud. 

"And  if  I  change  my  story  to  please  you-all,"  she 
scoffed,  "what  does  it  amount  to,  Colonel  Todhun- 
ter? Just  two  things — and  I'll  tell  you  what  they 
are.  I  help  to  get  Tom  Strickland  out  o'  danger  for 
killin'  Stam  Tucker,  and  I  clear  his  good  name  so 
he  can  go  straight  and  marry  your  daughter  Mary. 
That's  what  I  do — if  I'm  willin'  to  tell  the  story 
you-all  want  me  to  tell,  and  so  lift  my  shame  off'n 

239 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Tom  Strickland  and  put  it  on  a  dead  man  instead 
— put  it  on  Stam  Tucker,  that  was  shot  and  killed 
by  Tom  Strickland  because  both  of  'em  loved  Miss 
MaryTodhunter!" 

"I'm  askin'  you  to  tell  the  truth,  Lottie-May!" 
said  Colonel  Todhunter.  "That's  all.  I'm  askin' 
you  to  tell  me  now  what  you  will  surely  have  to  tell 
under  oath  in  the  Nineveh  court-room  at  Tom 
Strickland's  trial,  unless  you  mean  to  perjure  your 
soul  by  kissin'  the  Bible  and  then  swearin'  to  a  lie. 
That's  where  you  are,  my  girl !  If  you  told  the  truth 
in  what  you  said  to  Mrs.  Todhunter  about  Tom 
Strickland,  I  ain't  got  another  word  to  say.  But,  if 
you  didn't,  for  God's  sake  tell  it  now,  Lottie-May, 
and  help  me  and  Tom's  father  to  save  his  life !" 

Again  the  girl's  face  had  whitened  as  Colonel 
Todhunter  so  suddenly  acquainted  her  with  the  fact 
that  she  must  needs  be  a  witness  for  or  against 
Tom  Strickland  when  he  was  placed  on  trial  for  his 
life.  And  again,  succeeding  this,  her  eyes  hardened 
with  the  deadly  rancor  born  of  her  secret  thoughts. 

"I  told  Mrs.  Todhunter  the  truth,"  she  replied. 
"What  I  told  her,  I— I'll  tell  in  court,  if  I  got  to.  I 
might  be  willin'  to  tell — I  might  be  willin'  to  tell  a  lie 

240 


for  Tom  Strickland's  sake  if  it  wa'n't  for  Miss  Mary 
Todhunter — but  I  can't  do  it  for  her,  and  I  won't ! 
It  ain't  in  my  blood  to  let  another  woman  walk  on 
me  to  get  to  the  man  I  love,  Colonel  Todhunter,  and 
you  and  all  the  rest  of  'em  might  as  well  know  it 
once  and  for  all !  I  got  the  same  shame  on  me  now 
that  my  mother  had,  and  I'm  her  daughter,  body  and 
soul!" 

Colonel  Todhunter  looked  at  Lottie-May  Dog- 
gett  long  and  silently.  His  face  was  grave  when  he 
spoke. 

"That's  all  I  wanted  to  see  you  about,  Lottie- 
May,"  he  said  finally.  "It  looks  like  I  been  on  a 
fool's  errand,  but  I've  done  the  best  I  could.  Good- 
by,  child — and  you  better  think  over  what  I've  been 
sayin'  to  you  after  I'm  gone." 

Oddly  enough,  a  little  sob  broke  from  the  girl's 
throat  as  the  Colonel  spoke.  The  next  moment,  with 
one  hand  fluttering  nervously  at  her  bosom,  she 
closed  the  door  behind  him. 

Crossing  the  country  road  a  few  rods  from  the 
gate  leading  into  the  Doggetts'  yard,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter stopped  to  speak  to  Aunt  Mirandy  Ran- 
som, the  old  negress  whom  he  had  last  met  in  the 

241 


Nineveh  town  square,  and  who  now  stood  at  the 
door  of  her  little  cabin.  After  talking  with  her 
some  brief  time  he  resumed  his  way  into  town. 

He  met  the  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland 
at  the  entrance  to  the  Nineveh  jail.  The  father's 
face  was  gray  with  anxiety.  Colonel  Todhunter 
held  his  hand  with  a  grip  of  comforting  friendliness. 

"The  boy's  in  hell's  own  hole,  Bill,"  he  said.  "But 
you  and  me'll  pull  him  out  of  it  if  we've  got  to  bust 
the  breechin'  doin'  it,  suh !" 


242 


CHAPTER  XVII 

A  STRANGE  CRY  FROM  BLACK  LIPS 

OLD  Governor  Leslie  hurried  to  Nineveh  from 
St.  Louis  the  day  following  Colonel  Strick- 
land's own  return  home.  He  came  in  response  to  an 
urgent  telegraphic  summons  from  the  candidate, 
whom  he  found  in  close  conference  with  Major 
Gentry  Dryden,  one  of  Missouri's  most  famous 
criminal  lawyers.  Colonel  Todhunter  was  with 
them. 

"We'll  bring  Tom  through  all  right,  Governor," 
said  Colonel  Strickland,  although  his  worn  and  wor- 
ried face  belied  the  brave  words,  "but  in  the  mean- 
time, I  thought  it  best  to  get  you  down  here  so  that 
I  could  straighten  myself  out  in  the  matter  of  my 
campaign  for  the  nomination  for  governor  with  as 
little  delay  as  possible." 

"What  do  you  mean  to  do?"  asked  old  Leslie. 

"I  mean  to  withdraw  from  the  race,"  replied 
Colonel  Strickland.  "I  can't  run,  carrying  this 
weight  of  Tom's  trouble.  It's  got  me  beat  right 

243 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

now.  I  won't  ask  my  friends  to  make  a  hopeless 
fight." 

"You'll  stay  right  where  you  are,"  said  Governor 
Leslie.  "You're  not  responsible  for  Tom's  reckless 
folly,  and  the  Democratic  voters  in  Missouri  won't 
hold  you  responsible." 

"The  Yancey  crowd  will  make  it  appear  that  the 
killing  of  Stam  Tucker  was  a  political  murder," 
Colonel  Strickland  answered.  "They're  doing  it 
already.  Their  newspapers  are  handling  the  case 
along  that  line.  They've  published  the  story  of  the 
quarrel  between  Tom  and  Stam  Tucker  the  night 
we  opened  my  campaign  here  in  Nineveh,  and  of 
their  fight  in  the  bar-room  the  next  day.  They  point 
out  that  old  Eph  Tucker  is  my  bitterest  political  en- 
emy, and  that  he  and  his  son  were  working  tooth 
and  nail  for  Stephen  K.  Yancey,  and  that  this  polit- 
ical feud  has  resulted  in  the  assassination  of  Eph 
Tucker's  son  by  my  son.  It's  a  pretty  black  story, 
handled  that  way,  and  it'll  do  me  all  sorts  of  harm 
throughout  the  state." 

"They  can't  ignore  the  facts  in  the  case,"  retorted 
Governor  Leslie.  "In  the  first  place,  as  I  under- 
stand it,  your  son  himself  doesn't  know  that  it  was 

244 


A    STRANGE    CRY    FROM    BLACK   LIPS 

he  who  shot  Stam  Tucker.  He's  bound  to  plead  not 
guilty,  and  the  prosecution's  got  to  prove  the  fact  of 
guilt.  In  the  second  place,  the  real  reason  for 
deadly  trouble  between  Tom  and  Stam  Tucker  was 
the  story  told  by  that  Doggett  girl,  and  its  bearing 
upon  their  rivalry  for  the  hand  of  Miss  Mary  Tod- 
hunter.  The  Doggett  story  puts  an  entirely  new 
light  on  the  feud  between  the  two  boys." 

"Not  the  way  the  Yancey  organs  are  presenting 
it,"  said  Colonel  Strickland,  "it  only  serves  to  in- 
tensify the  original  trouble  and  to  make  a  thrilling 
'murder  story'  with  what  they  call  'romantic'  as 
well  as  political  trimmings.  They're  featuring  it  on 
that  basis,  and  they're  going  to  get  Steve  Yancey 
nominated  just  that  way." 

"I  thought  this  was  what  you  wanted  to  see  me 
about,"  commented  old  Governor  Leslie,  "so  I  had 
a  conference  with  the  St.  Louis  men  who  worked 
with  me  to  put  you  in  the  race.  But,  before  I  tell 
you  any  more  about  that,  I  want  to  ask  you  just  one 
question,  Bill  Strickland." 

A  moment  of  silence  followed  these  words.  Colo- 
nel Strickland  held  Governor  Leslie's  eyes  with  his 
own,  inquiringly. 

245 


COLONEL1   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Do  you  want  your  son  to  be  convicted  of  the 
murder  of  Stamford  Tucker?"  asked  Governor  Les- 
lie. 

"Good  God,  man!"  cried  Colonel  Strickland. 
"How  can  you  ask  such  a  thing?" 

Governor  Leslie  turned  to  Major  Gentry  Dryden. 
"Dryden,"  he  queried,  "what  would  be  the  effect  of 
Colonel  Strickland's  withdrawal  from  the  campaign 
at  this  time?" 

"It  would  be  talcen  as  a  confession  of  his  belief 
in  his  son's  guilt,"  replied  the  lawyer  without  an  in- 
stant's hesitation.  "It  would  be  the  worst  blow  pos- 
sible to  the  defense  right  now.  I  should  strongly 
protest  against  Colonel  Strickland's  withdrawal." 

"There  you  are !"  exclaimed  old  Leslie,  turning  to 
the  candidate.  "That  was  exactly  the  view  I  took 
of  it — you've  got  to  consider  your  son's  interests 
above  all  else,  Strickland.  And  now  I'll  tell  you 
what  your  St.  Louis  backers  said.  They  authorized 
me  to  refuse  to  accept  your  withdrawal  as  a  candi- 
date for  the  Democratic  nomination  for  governor 
of  Missouri.  Aside  from  whatever  personal  regard 
they  may  have  for  you,  they  believe  that,  even  as 
matters  now  stand,  you're  the  strongest  man  in  the 

246 


A    STRANGE    CRY    FROM    BLACK    LIPS 

state,  and  that  you've  still  got  a  better  fighting 
chance  to  win  than  any  other  man  would  have. 
You've  got  to  stay  in,  Strickland." 

"But,  good  Lord,  man,  how  can  I  fight  to  any 
purpose?"  asked  Colonel  Strickland  piteously.  "I 
must  deal  fairly  with  you,  so  I  tell  you  right  here 
and  now  that,  compared  with  Tom's  safety,  I  don't 
give  a  damn  what  becomes  of  my  chances  in  the 
campaign.  I'm  going  to  stay  right  here  and  move 
Heaven  and  earth  to  clear  my  son  of  the  awful 
charge  against  him — and  by  the  time  his  trial's 
ended  the  campaign  will  be  over,  too." 

"Not  quite,"  answered  Governor  Leslie,  unmoved. 
"But  if  that  was  the  case,  it  wouldn't  make  any  dif- 
ference. God  knows  you're  justified  in  sticking  to 
Tom  through  thick  and  thin,  to  the  finish,  and  re- 
gardless of  all  other  demands  upon  you.  I  wouldn't 
wipe  my  feet  on  you  if  you  were  capable  of  doing 
anything  else.  So  don't  you  worry  about  that. 
We're  going  to  do  all  the  fighting  for  you  from  now 
on — and  we've  picked  on  Colonel  Todhunter  here 
as  the  best  man  to  lead  what  you  seem  disposed  to 
call  a  forlorn  hope." 

"Now  you're  talkin',  suh !"  broke  in  Colonel  Tod- 
247 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

hunter,  his  grim  old  face  alight  with  the  lust  of  bat- 
tle. "Damn  their  cowardly  souls,  I  won't  ask  any- 
thing better'n  to  get  out  on  the  stump  and  skin  'em 
alive.  They're  crowdin'  old  Bill  Strickland  to  the 
wall  because  they  think  they've  got  him  foul,  and 
Bill's  friends  has  got  to  stand  by  him  closer'n  ever. 
Turn  me  loose  on  'em,  Leslie — I'll  make  Mizzoorah 
too  hot  to  hold  'em !" 

Old  Governor  Leslie  smiled  ominously.  "We've 
made  arrangements  to  that  end,  Todhunter,"  he  re- 
plied. "I  knew  just  how  you'd  feel  about  it.  We 
want  you  to  tell  the  Democrats  of  Missouri  just  ex- 
actly why  we  wouldn't  let  Strickland  withdraw,  just 
exactly  why  he  himself  won't  do  any  more  cam- 
paigning for  the  nomination,  and  just  exactly  why 
and  where  the  Yancey  newspapers  and  the  Yancey 
speakers  are  distorting  the  truth  of  this  case  against 
Tom  Strickland  to  make  it  look  like  a  political  assas- 
sination. And  it's  going  to  be  pretty  hot  work,  Tod- 
hunter — you  may  have  more  than  one  personal  diffi- 
culty on  your  hands  before  you  get  through  with  it." 

"We  needn't  talk  about  that  feature  of  it,  Gov- 
ernor Leslie,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter.  "There 
won't  be  no  trouble  'less'n  some  o'  the  Yancey  crowd 

248 


-  A    STRANGE    CRY    FROM    BLACK    LIPS 

object  to  a  man's  talkin'  straight  from  the  shoulder. 
We've  just  about  got  time  now  for  a  lightning  finish 
on  the  stump,  takin'  it  for  granted  that  I'm  expected 
to  reach  all  parts  of  the  state,  so  the  sooner  I  start, 
the  better." 

"You  start  to-morrow,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  re- 
sponded old  Governor  Leslie.  "We've  already  made 
the  speaking  appointments  for  you,  and  I've  got  the 
list  of  towns  and  dates  right  here  with  me.  It's  a 
devilish  big  contract,  sir — and  you  won't  get  back 
here  until  just  a  few  days  before  the  primary  elec- 
tions." 

"I  don't  want  to  get  back  here  before  then — 'less'n 
I  could  be  of  some  use  to  Tom  Strickland,"  said 
Colonel  Todhunter,  a  sudden  huskiness  in  his  throat 
as  his  eyes  fell  on  Colonel  Bill  Strickland's  hag- 
gard face.  "The  main  thing  I  want  is  to  give  the 
Yancey  crowd  a  fight  they  wasn't  expectin',  suh — 
and  I'll  be  eternally  condemned  if  we  ain't  a-goin* 
to  do  it,  too!" 

Wherefore,  the  following  morning,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter started  out  in  the  lead  of  the  forlorn  hope 
that  was  to  make  the  last  stand  for  Colonel  Bill 
Strickland  in  Missouri. 

249 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

It  proved  to  be  a  soul- weary  ing  battle,  full  of 
baffling  chagrin  and  disappointment.  On  the  very 
eve  of  the  trial  of  Tom  Strickland  for  the  killing  of 
Stamford  Tucker,  Colonel  Todhunter  returned  to 
Nineveh.  He  was  met  by  Colonel  Strickland,  whose 
face  seemed  now  not  only  haggard,  but  hopeless. 

"They're  pushin'  us  pretty  hard,  Bill,"  said  Colo- 
nel Todhunter.  "I've  fought  'em  the  best  I  knew 
how,  but  Steve  Yancey's  crowd  is  working  Tom's 
case  against  us  better'n  I  thought  was  possible  among 
folks  that  know  you  like  our  Mizzoorah  Democrats 
know  you,  suh.  It's  enough  to  make  a  dog  sick  to 
see  how  easy  people  can  be  turned  against  a  man 
when  he's  in  trouble,  I'll  just  be  double-whipsawed 
if  it  ain't!" 

"That's  all  right,  Thurs,"  replied  the  other  list- 
lessly. "Don't  you  go  worrying  yourself  any  longer 
about  my  campaign.  I  knew  I  was  beat  the  minute 
they  got  Tom's  trouble  to  use  as  a  weapon  against 
me.  But  what  hurts  me  most  now,  Thurs,  is  that 
Governor  Leslie  is  now  finding  it  impossible  to  raise 
that  campaign  fund  we  counted  on.  I'm  licked — and 
I've  hurt  you  mighty  bad  at  the  same  time." 

But  Colonel  Todhunter  fired  up  at  this.  "I'll  be 
250 


A    STRANGE    CRY   FROM    BLACK   LIPS 

shot  full  o'  holes  if  you're  licked — yet!"  he  ex- 
claimed. "And  I  ain't  hurt  any  till  you  hear  me 
holler,  suh.  Don't  you  misunderstand  me,  Bill 
Strickland.  I  acknowledge  that  we've  got  a  hard 
row  to  hoe,  but  that  ain't  no  sign  we  ain't  a-goin' 
to  hoe  it.  Anyway,  by  Godfrey,  we'll  make  an  ever- 
lastin'  good  stagger  at  it — the  next  best  thing  to 
livin'  victorious  is  dyin'  game,  suh !" 

Colonel  Strickland  shook  his  head.  "There's 
mighty  little  fight  left  in  me,"  he  spoke  sadly. 

"I'll  do  the  fightin',"  retorted  Colonel  Todhnnter. 
Then  he  looked  his  friend  anxiously  in  the  face. 
"How's  Tom's  case  goin'  ?"  he  asked. 

"It  looks  mighty  black,"  answered  the  other.  "It's 
going  to  be  a  political  trial,  bitter  as  sin,  because  the 
old  gang  counts  on  Tom's  conviction  to  drive  me  out 
of  Missouri  politics.  The  evidence  in  the  case  is  all 
against  the  boy.  The  court-room  will  be  packed  with 
Yancey  heelers — there's  no  way  to  prevent  it — and 
they'll  make  every  demonstration  possible  to  influ- 
ence the  jury.  And  every  man  connected  with  the 
court  wears  the  gang's  collar,  even  to  Judge  Pittman 
himself.  If  we  ask  for  a  change  of  venue  we'll  jump 
from  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire,  because  my  ene- 

251 


mies  have  got  the  whip-hand  anywhere  we  turn.  By 
God,  old  fellow,  I  believe  they'll  have  my  boy's  life 
before  they  get  through !"  The  speaker's  voice  broke 
in  spite  of  him. 

Colonel  Todhunter's  face  grew  hard  and  grim. 
"No,  they  won't !"  he  said  stubbornly.  "They  can't 
do  it.  They  ain't  got  nothin'  against  Tom  but  cir- 
cumstantial evidence,  and  it  surely  ought  to  be 
mighty  hard,  here  in  Nineveh,  to  convict  a  boy  like 
Tom,  well  known  and  comin'  of  a  family  that's  lived 
here  so  long,  on  circumstantial  evidence  alone. 
They'll  try  their  damnedest  to  do  it,  Bill,  but  they 
can't.  Tom'll  get  the  benefit  of  the  doubt." 

There  was  something  deeply  pathetic  in  this  eager 
clutching  at  the  one  remaining  strand  of  hope.  The 
two  old  friends  were  now  making  their  way  toward 
the  jail  to  see  Tom.  Suddenly  they  came  face  to 
face  with  Mrs.  Todhunter  and  Mary. 

The  girl  advanced  directly  toward  them  with  out- 
stretched hand,  her  mother  following. 

"Howdy,  Colonel  Strickland !"  she  said,  her  voice 
trembling  a  little.  "You're  on  your  way  to  visit 
Tom,  aren't  you  ?" 

"Yes,  Miss  Mary,"  replied  Tom's  father  quietly. 
252 


A    STRANGE    CRY    FROM    BLACK    LIPS 

"The  trial  begins  to-morrow,  and  I  only  left  him 
to  meet  Colonel  Todhunter,  and  he's  returning  with 
me." 

"Colonel  Strickland,"  said  Mary  resolutely, 
though  her  voice  shook  more  than  ever,  "I  want  you 
to  carry  a  message  to  Tom  from  me." 

There  was  a  curious  little  pause.  Mrs.  Todhunter 
laid  her  hand  gently  on  her  daughter's  arm.  But  the 
girl  moved  away  from  the  touch,  not  harshly,  yet 
as  if  she  felt  it  to  be  a  protest. 

"I  want  you  to  give  Tom  my  love,  Colonel  Strick- 
land," she  said.  "And  I  want  you  to  tell  him,  from 
me,  that  I  don't  believe  one  word  of  these  awful 
charges  against  him — not  one  word — either  about 
Stam  Tucker  or  about  that — that  girl!" 

And  as  she  spoke  Mary  Todhunter  burst  out  cry- 
ing. She  dabbed  piteously  at  her  face  with  her  hand- 
kerchief, unable  to  control  her  emotions.  Then, 
sobbing,  she  turned  away  with  her  mother,  no  other 
word  being  spoken. 

"God  bless  that  girl  of  yours,  Thurs !"  spoke  Colo- 
nel Strickland,  his  own  voice  unsteady.  "She's  good 
grit  clear  through — and,  somehow,  she  gives  me 
more  courage  than  I've  had  for  many  a  day.  They 

253 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

haven't  got  Tom  yet — and  they'll  have  the  fight  of 
their  lives  before  they  do  get  him !" 

"That's  the  talk!"  cried  Colonel  Todhunter. 
"Face  'em  that  way,  Bill,  and  we'll  make  'em  strain 
their  souls  for  every  inch  they  try  to  gain !  They  got 
to  do  it — by  the  good  God  up  yonder  in  them  skies, 
Bill,  they  got  to  do  it !" 

But  the  little  flicker  of  encouragement  caused  by  a 
girl's  brave  words  soon  died  away  in  the  somber 
shadow  of  Tom  Strickland's  prison.  It  was  t\vo 
very  weary  and  gray-faced  old  men  who  came  away 
from  the  prisoner  an  hour  later  and  parted  at  the 
jail's  front,  each  to  go  to  his  own  home. 

That  evening  Colonel  Todhunter  went  by  appoint- 
ment to  the  Strickland  home  for  a  conference  with 
Tom's  father  and  Major  Gentry  Dryden,  leading 
counsel  for  the  defense.  It  was  nearly  midnight 
when  he  returned  to  his  own  home. 

He  found  Aunt  Mi  randy  Ransom  there.  The 
old  negress  rose,  trembling,  at  sight  of  him,  her 
black  hands  fluttering  toward  him  in  instinctive  glad- 
ness of  welcome. 

"Bress  Gawd,  yo'  done  come !"  she  cried.  "I  been 
eatin'  my  ole  heart  out  waitin'  fo'  yo',  suh !  Kunn'l 

254 


A    STRANGE    CRY    FROM    BLACK   LIPS 

Todhunter,  yo'  got  some  mighty  quick  an'  ticklish 
wu'k  cut  out  fo'  yo'  ef  yo'  gwine  save  Mars'  Tom 
Strickland's  life — das  huccome  I  hyar  now  to  tell 
yo'  erbout  it,  suh!" 


255 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

COLONEL  TODHUNTER  RIDES  THROUGH  DARKNESS 
INTO   THE   DAWN 

THROUGH  the  after-midnight  blackness  that 
was  soon  to  change  into  the  gray  of  a  cloud- 
swept  dawn  a  fugitive  man  and  woman  fled,  two 
sinister  figures  of  a  sinister  hour. 

Side  by  side  they  sat  in  a  light  road-wagon  drawn 
by  a  raw-boned  horse  whose  long  and  swift  stride 
told  of  its  selection  for  this  special  service. 

The  man,  gaunt,  swarthy,  with  keen  black  eyes 
that  gleamed  alertly  from  under  the  wide  brim  of  a 
weather-beaten  sombrero,  seemed  ill  content,  how- 
ever, with  the  progress  being  made. 

Almost  incessantly  he  urged  the  horse  to  increased 
effort,  now  and  then  cursing  outright  in  the  grip  of 
a  feverish  impatience. 

Save  when  he  leaned  forward  for  this  urging,  the 
man  sat  slouching  and  limp,  the  mark  of  the  vagrant 
Ishmael  on  every  line  of  body  and  limbs. 

The  woman  was  tense,  rigid,  her  face  set  always 
256 


THROUGH    DARKNESS    INTO    DAWN 

to  the  front.  It  was  framed  in  by  a  shawl  thrown 
over  her  head  and  drawn  about  her  shoulders.  Once 
or  twice  her  glance  went  furtively  to  the  man  beside 
her.  Fear  and  distrust  were  in  her  eyes.  Her  hands 
were  tightly  clasped  together  as  they  lay  in  her  lap. 

Deep  woods  stretched  on  either  side  of  the  road. 
Their  stillness  was  profound.  The  enveloping  gloom 
seemed  as  of  the  grave  itself.  The  woman  shuddered 
and  drew  her  shawl  closer. 

"Lord  ha'  mercy!"  she  spoke.  "I  can't  do  it, 
Jesse — I  can't !  It's  worse'n  murder — worse'n  what's 
been  done  a'ready !" 

The  man  laid  a  cruel  lash  across  his  horse's  flanks. 
"You  fool !"  he  muttered.  "It's  high  time  I  brung 
you  away !  You  lovesick  fool !" 

The  girl's  eyes  flashed  sullenly.  "That  word's  a 
lie!"  she  retorted.  "Ain't  I  goin'  with  you?  And 
would  I  be  a-doin'  that  if  I  was  lovesick  for  some- 
body else?  It's  a  lie,  and  you  know  it!" 

The  man  laughed.  "If  you  had  stayed  where  you 
was  you'd  ha'  blabbed  the  whole  thing  out,  and  you'd 
be  in  jail  now,  'stead  o'  him." 

Suddenly  the  woman  threw  her  arms  upward. 
"It'll  ha'nt  me  to  my  dyin'  day !"  she  cried.  "I  ought 

257 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

to  ha'  told  the  truth !   I  wish  I  had !   I  wish  I  had ! 
It  couldn't  be  no  worse'n  it  is  now !" 

"The  hell  it  couldn't!"  savagely  returned  the  man. 
"You  keep  your  mouth  shut !  I  got  all  I  can  do  to 
save  us  as  it  is,  'thout'n  you  waggin'  your  tongue. 
You  keep  your  mouth  shut !" 

The  woman  passed  her  hands  over  her  face  mis- 
erably. 

The  man  again  slouched  down  in  his  seat.  Now 
and  then  his  moody  glance  turned  apprehensively 
to  his  companion. 

"I've  done  a  whole  lot  for  your  sake,  Lottie- 
May,"  he  spoke  at  last.  "I  could  ha'  got  away  long 
ago.  I'm  takin'  big  chances  on  your  account.  And 
you  don't  seem  to  care !" 

Lottie-May  Doggett's  face  grew  shamed.  "Yes,  I 
do,  Jesse !"  she  exclaimed.  "I  know  just  what  you're 
doin'  for  me.  The  only  show  I  got  is  to  go  with 
you.  And  you  mustn't  think  I  don't  appreciate  it." 
Her  hands  fluttered  piteously  at  her  throat.  "My 
God!"  she  cried,  her  voice  breaking  in  anguish. 
"Tom  Strickland's  goin'  to  be  hung!  He's  goin'  to 
be  hung!  They  ain't  nothin'  on  earth  can  save  him!" 

Far  in  the  east  the  gray  dawn  was  breaking. 
258 


THROUGH    DARKNESS    INTO    DAWN 

"Damn  Tom  Strickland!"  cursed  the  man.  "I'll 
be  glad  when  he  is  hung!  You've  always  been  in 
love  with  him !" 

"He's  goin'  to  be  hung!"  repeated  the  girl.  "And 
they  ain't  no  way  to  save  him  now !" 

An  evil  mockery  leaped  into  the  man's  face.  "Oh, 
yes,  there's  a  way !"  he  retorted.  "You  go  back  there 
to  that  trial  and  confess  the  truth!  You're  the  only 
one  on  God's  earth  that  can  save  him.  Ain't  that 
so?" 

The  girl's  face  whitened.  As  the  man  spoke  they 
had  turned  from  the  pike  road  and  were  going  deeper 
into  the  woods.  A  scant  light  of  day  had  come. 
The  faces  of  the  two  were  haggard  and  worn. 

"Yes,  I'm  the  only  one!"  cried  Lottie-May  Dog- 
gett  suddenly.  "And  that's  what  I'd  do  now  if  I 
had  the  chance — tell  the  whole  truth !  I  ain't  think- 
in'  no  more  about  me.  I  ain't  thinkin'  no  more  about 
you.  I'm  thinkin'  about  Tom  Strickland !" 

A  forlorn  and  dilapidated  cabin  was  revealed  in  a 
barren  little  opening  ahead.  The  man  laughed  aloud 
as  he  saw  it. 

"You'll  have  to  take  it  out  in  thinkin',  Lottie- 
May!"  he  exclaimed  triumphantly.  "I've  got  you 

259 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

now  where  you're  safe.  When  you  and  me  leave 
that  shack  to-night  there'll  be  no  more  talk  o'  you 
savin'  Tom  Strickland.  We'll  be  headed  straight 
for  Oklahoma  then,  and  all  hell  can't  stop  us!" 

The  girl's  eyes  rested  on  the  miserable  little  cabin. 
An  ominous  light  was  in  them.  The  man  drew  up  at 
the  hut  and  assisted  his  companion  from  the  wagon. 
He  pushed  open  a  creaking  door.  The  cabin's  in- 
terior showed  black  and  forbidding. 

"That's  where  we  stay  till  night-time,"  he  said. 
"I'll  take  the  horse  and  wagon  round  where  they 
won't  be  seen  if  anybody  happens  to  come  along. 
And  I  don't  want  no  more  o'  your  foolishness,  Lot- 
tie-May !" 

The  girl  started  as  if  struck.  "Don't  talk  to  me 
like  that!"  she  cried.  "I  ain't  your  nigger  yet.  I 
ain't  got  to  do  anything  I  don't  feel  like  doin'. 
You're  takin'  too  much  for  granted,  Jesse !" 

The  man  seemed  to  lose  all  patience  at  this.  Grasp- 
ing the  girl  by  the  shoulders  he  forced  her  into  the 
hut.  Then  he  disappeared.  A  moment  later  he  re- 
turned. 

The  girl  was  standing  against  the  wall.  Her  face 
260 


THROUGH    DARKNESS    INTO    DAWN 

was  buried  in  her  arms.    Sobs  shook  her  body.   The 
man  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

Five  miles  back,  on  the  road  along  which  the  fugi- 
tives had  come,  two  men  on  horseback  were  gallop- 
ing swiftly  in  pursuit.  One  was  tall,  with  cool  gray- 
blue  eyes  under  shaggy  brows,  gray  hair,  white  mus- 
tache and  old-fashioned  imperial.  His  seat  in  the 
saddle  was  that  of  a  seasoned  cavalryman.  The 
other  was  small,  wiry,  with  a  smooth-shaven,  hard- 
set  face,  a  mouth  like  a  steel  trap,  cold  hazel  eyes 
that  kept  themselves  fixed  on  the  road  ahead. 

"We  oughtn't  to  be  very  fur  behind  'em  now, 
Jim,"  spoke  the  first  man.  "Th'  ain't  no  way  they 
could  ha'  dodged  from  the  main  road,  is  there  ?" 

"No,  Colonel,  they  ain't,"  returned  the  other. 
"Not  till  they  come  to  the  old  dirt  road  that  leads 
to  the  cabin  I  told  you  about.  That's  where  they're 
headin'  for,  Colonel  Todhunter,  and  it's  where  we're 
goin'  to  run  up  on  'em.  We'll  be  there  pretty  soon, 
too." 

Colonel  Todhunter's  face  was  grim.  "I  hate  to 
think  of  Lottie-May  Doggett!"  he  spoke.  "It's 

261 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

mighty  bad,  mighty  bad,  suh.  I  feel  that  sorry  for 
poor  old  Rafe  Doggett — Lord,  Lord,  the  shame  of 
it  all  is  a-goin'  to  kill  that  good  old  man !" 

The  wiry  little  man  to  whom  he  spoke  snapped 
his  jaws  together  in  angry  scorn. 

"That  can't  be  helped  now,  Colonel,"  he  made 
answer.  "I  got  to  do  my  duty,  woman  or  no 
woman !" 

"I  ain't  askin'  you  to  do  anything  less'n  your 
duty,  Jim,"  replied  Colonel  Todhunter.  "And  I'm 
just  as  responsible  as  you  are.  But  I'm  sorry — and 
I'm  afraid,  too.  If  there's  any  serious  trouble,  I 
hope  there'll  be  some  way  o'  seem'  that  the  girl  don't 
get  hurt." 

"She  won't  if  she  behaves  herself,"  said  the  other. 
"But  she's  got  to  do  that,  for  there  ain't  goin'  to  be 
no  time  for  foolishness.  You've  got  to  forget  the 
girl  part  of  this  business  if  you  want  to  come  out  on 
top,  Colonel  Todhunter." 

Colonel  Todhunter  sighed.  "I  reckon  that's 
straight,  Jim,"  he  agreed. 

The  two  rode  on  abreast  without  further  words 
until  they  reached  the  cross-road. 

"Here  we  are,  Colonel,"  spoke  the  little  man,  his 
262 


THROUGH    DARKNESS    INTO    DAWN 

voice  low.  "It's  a  safe  bet  they're  layin'  up  till  dark 
in  that  old  shanty." 

The  two  riders  checked  their  horses  to  a  walk. 

Suddenly  a  woman's  shriek  broke  the  stillness. 
"For  God's  sake,  Jesse!"  the  cry  sounded.  "You 
ain't  a-goin'  to  kill  me  like  a  dog,  are  you  ?" 

Instantly,  hearing  the  cry,  Colonel  Todhunter 
pressed  his  horse  to  a  full  gallop.  His  companion 
did  the  same.  They  threw  themselves  from  the  sad- 
dle in  front  of  the  cabin.  Colonel  Todhunter  hurled 
his  weight  against  the  door.  It  yielded  and  he 
plunged  inside. 

A  girl  knelt  in  the  center  of  the  dark  little  hut. 
Her  hands  were  uplifted  in  entreaty.  Over  her  stood 
a  man  with  a  knife  raised  to  strike.  His  face  was 
black  with  rage. 

Colonel  Todhunter  covered  him  with  a  swiftly 
drawn  pistol.  "Hands  up,  Chickasaw,  we'll  'tend  to 
Lottie-May  ourselves — and  to  you.  This  is  the  sher- 
iff o'  Rails  County  I  got  with  me." 

The  man  turned.  He  looked  into  the  muzzles  of 
two  revolvers,  the  sheriff  being  well-nigh  as  quick 
to  draw  as  Colonel  Todhunter.  Their  menace  did 
not  invite  resistance.  The  man  saw  this  truth  in- 

263 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

stantly.  Colonel  Todhunter's  steady  eyes  held  his. 
The  Colonel  spoke  to  the  girl  without  looking  at  her. 

"Git  off  there  to  one  side,  Lottie-May,"  he  said. 
"Quick!" 

The  girl  sprang  from  under  the  knife.  "Thank 
God,  you  come,  Colonel  Todhunter!"  she  cried. 
"Thank  God— oh,  thank  God!" 

And  at  the  girl's  cry  the  man  laughed  aloud.  He 
threw  his  knife  to  the  floor.  Then,  empty-handed, 
he  stood,  confronting  his  captors. 


264 


CHAPTER  XIX 

STATE  OF  MISSOURI  VS.  THOMAS  W.   STRICKLAND 

FOR    MURDER 

THE  trial  of  Tom  Strickland  had  been  relent- 
lessly hurried  to  the  day  of  its  closing  by  a 
political  prosecution  working  through  a  complaisant 
judge  servile  to  machine  influence. 

From  that  early  moment  of  the  selection  of  a  jury 
the  truth  of  a  merciless  haste  was  in  evidence.  It 
was  explained  by  the  court  that  there  was  impera- 
tive need  for  as  little  delay  as  might  be  possible,  the 
docket  being  crowded  and  many  cases  remaining  to 
be  disposed  of  during  the  present  term.  The  grim 
fact  was  that  Colonel  Strickland's  enemies  felt  sure 
of  a  conviction  and  were  determined  that  the  verdict 
should  be  rendered  in  time  to  remove  whatever  peril 
of  his  nomination  might  still  remain. 

The  evidence  scored  heavily  against  Tom  from 
the  start. 

There  was  plainly  sounded  a  note  of  somewhat  in- 
solent confidence,  almost  like  jubilation,  in  the  swift 

265 


announcement  of  the  state's  readiness  for  trial. 
Colonel  Bill  Strickland,  gray  and  pinched  of  face, 
recognized  its  instant  menace.  His  closely  shut  lips 
broke  their  rigid  lines  piteously,  precisely  as  they  had 
done  when  Tom  was  brought  into  court  and  took  his 
seat  confronting  the  jury. 

At  the  same  moment  a  swift  flash  of  anticipated 
triumph  leaped  into  the  eyes  of  old  Ephraim  Tucker, 
sitting  with  the  state's  counsel.  Tom's  father  saw 
this  and  his  jaws  set  hard  at  the  sight. 

"They're  feeling  pretty  sure  of  a  conviction,"  he 
whispered  to  Major  Gentry  Dryden.  "Is  it  likely 
they've  obtained  evidence  against  Tom  that  we  don't 
know  anything  about  ?" 

The  lawyer  shook  his  head.  "I  hardly  think  so," 
he  replied.  "We've  got  a  line  on  all  their  witnesses, 
I  believe.  I  can't  figure  out  how  they'll  be  able  to 
spring  a  surprise  on  us." 

But  one  sinister  sentence  in  the  prosecuting  at- 
torney's opening  statement  to  the  jury  undeceived 
him. 

"We  shall  prove,  gentlemen,  beyond  a  reasonable 
doubt,"  the  state's  counsel  said,  "the  motive  which, 
we  claim,  led  Thomas  W.  Strickland  to  slay  Stam- 

266 


MISSOURI    VS.  TOM    STRICKLAND 

ford  Tucker,  and  then" — moving  a  step  nearer  to  the 
jury  and  lifting  one  hand  impressively — "having 
proved  this,  we  shall  establish,  by  the  testimony  of 
an  eye-witness,  the  fact  of  Thomas  W.  Strickland's 
presence  at  the  scene  of  the  murder  at  the  time  of  its 
commission." 

Major  Gentry  Dryden,  in  spite  of  himself,  started 
at  hearing  this  crushing  announcement.  Something 
of  fierce  resentment,  pathetic  in  its  impotency, 
showed  in  Colonel  Strickland's  grizzled  countenance. 
Tom's  face,  a  helpless  perplexity  in  his  eyes,  went 
deadly  white. 

The  atmosphere  became  tense  with  the  sudden 
dramatic  grip  of  the  situation  thus  created. 

And  the  hearing  of  testimony  for  the  state  began. 

It  went  forward  with  merciless  precision  and  des- 
patch, a  certainty  and  rapidity  so  well  ordered  as  to 
be  overwhelming  in  moral  effect. 

The  evidence  was  cruelly  against  Tom  Strickland. 
Two  witnesses,  a  farmer  and  his  son,  testified  to 
finding  the  dead  body  of  Stam  Tucker  by  the  road- 
side, at  a  point  midway  between  the  Tucker  home 
and  the  town  of  Nineveh,  at  daybreak  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  twenty-seventh  day  of  July  just  past. 

267 


They  were  on  their  way  into  town  to  sell  garden 
produce.  The  dead  man  lay  on  his  back  just  at  the 
edge  of  the  road.  There  was  a  bullet  hole  in  his 
forehead.  A  pistol,  with  one  chamber  empty,  lay  an 
inch  or  two  distant  from  his  right  hand.  The  wit- 
nesses had  hurried  into  Nineveh  and  notified  the 
authorities. 

Simeon  Birdsong  testified  that  bad  feeling  had  ex- 
isted between  Thomas  W.  Strickland  and  Stamford 
Tucker  since  the  night  of  the  clash  between  the 
Strickland  and  Yancey  factions  at  the  opening  rally 
of  the  Strickland  campaign.  The  witness  stated 
that  the  accused  at  that  time  made  threats  to  "get 
even"  with  Tucker  for  attempting  to  break  up  the 
Strickland  meeting.  On  the  following  day  the  ac- 
cused had  openly  insulted  Tucker  in  the  bar-room  of 
the  Nineveh  Hotel  and  had  knocked  him  down  a 
short  time  later  when  they  again  met  in  the  same 
place.  It  was  generally  believed  that  there  would  be 
a  bloody  encounter  between  them  before  the  cam- 
paign closed.  Other  associates  of  the  dead  man  and 
the  accused  testified  to  the  same  facts. 

Mrs.  Todhunter,  whose  appearance  as  a  witness 
268 


MISSOURI    VS.  TOM    STRICKLAND 

for  the  state  was  a  dramatic  surprise,  and  who  was 
pitifully  agitated,  testified  to  the  fact  of  the  accusa- 
tion made  against  Thomas  W.  Strickland  by  Lottie- 
May  Doggett  at  the  reception  and  hop  given  by  the 
Nineveh  Light  Infantry,  and  her  testimony  was  sup- 
ported by  that  of  several  other  ladies  who  heard  the 
accusation. 

Nicholas  Bledsoe,  the  bartender  in  the  saloon  fre- 
quented by  the  Yancey-Tucker  faction,  testified  to 
the  facts  of  the  two  visits  to  his  place  made  by  the 
accused  on  the  forenoon  and  evening  of  the  twenty- 
sixth  day  of  July  just  past.  On  the  occasion  of  the 
latter  visit  the  accused  had  told  him  that  Stamford 
Tucker  was  the  man  whom  Lottie-May  Doggett 
should  rightfully  have  charged  with  her  ruin,  that 
the  girl  had  told  him,  the  accused,  of  Tucker's  meet- 
ing her  secretly,  and  that  he  meant  to  make  Tucker 
acknowledge  the  truth  publicly  or  else  kill  him.  This 
witness'  testimony  established  the  hour  of  eight- 
thirty  on  that  night  as  the  exact  time  at  which  Tom 
Strickland  had  left  the  bar-room  to  go  out  to  the 
Tucker  home  for  the  purpose  of  compelling  Stam- 
ford Tucker  to  agree  to  make  such  an  acknowledg- 

269 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

ment  or  of  forcing  a  hostile  meeting  in  the  event  of 
his  refusal. 

White-haired  Mrs.  Tucker,  the  dead  man's 
mother;  Katherine  Tucker,  his  sister,  and  Ellen 
Barry,  domestic  in  the  Tucker  home,  testified  that 
Stamford  Tucker  had  left  the  house  at  or  about 
eight-thirty  o'clock  on  the  night  of  the  twenty-sixth 
of  July  past,  saying  that  he  might  be  late  in  return- 
ing. He  had  not  told  them  where  he  was  going. 
They  had  believed  he  was  going  into  the  town  of 
Nineveh. 

Doctor  Langford,  the  county  coroner,  testified  to 
the  established  facts  of  the  inquest  that  had  resulted 
in  a  verdict  holding  Thomas  W.  Strickland  for  the 
killing  of  Stamford  Tucker. 

Luther  Bradfield,  proprietor  of  a  hardware  store 
in  Nineveh,  testified  that  Thomas  W.  Strickland  had 
purchased  a  revolver  from  him  on  the  morning  after 
the  opening  of  the  Strickland  campaign  in  the  Nine- 
veh town-hall.  He  identified  the  weapon  taken  from 
the  accused  at  the  time  of  his  arrest  as  the  one  thus 
purchased,  and  stated  that  the  bullet  found  in  Stam- 
ford Tucker's  brain  was  fired  from  a  pistol  of  the 
same  caliber. 

270 


MISSOURI    VS.  TOM    STRICKLAND 

Colonel  Thurston  T.  Todhunter  and  Miss  Lottie- 
May  Doggett  had  not  answered  to  their  names  when 
called  as  witnesses  for  the  prosecution.  The  deputy 
sheriff,  sent  to  bring  them  into  court,  had  returned 
later  and  announced  that  he  had  been  unable  to  find 
them.  This  had  occasioned  much  surprise,  but,  as 
both  the  state  and  the  defense  felt  assured  of  their 
appearance  at  almost  any  moment,  the  examination 
of  other  witnesses  proceeded. 

The  case  against  Tom  Strickland  began  to  assume 
its  most  ominous  aspect  immediately  following  the 
testimony  of  Bradfield,  the  hardware  dealer. 

The  prosecuting  attorney  turned,  smiling,  from  a 
whispered  consultation  with  old  Ephraim  Tucker. 

"Call  Abraham  L.  Tolliver!"  he  said. 

A  negro  man  about  forty  years  of  age  took  the 
stand  in  answer  to  the  sheriff's  cry.  He  seemed 
frightened  and  reluctant  to  testify. 

"What  is  your  name?" 

"My  name  Abram  Lincoln  Tolliver,  suh — dass 
my  name." 

"What  is  your  occupation,  Abram — what  do  you 
do  to  make  a  living?" 

"Mostly  I  ketches  fish,  suh.  I  hunts  some,  too,  and 
271 


I  sets  traps  for  coon  and  mink,  down  yander  in  de 
Black  Bottom  swamps,  suh." 

"Where  were  you,  Abe,  on  the  night  of  July 
twenty-sixth,  just  past  ?" 

"Part  de  time  I  was  right  hyar  in  dis  heah  town  o' 
Nineveh,  and  atter  dat  I  went  on  my  way  to  whar 
I  done  got  my  camp  in  de  bottom  lands,  suh." 

"What  time  did  you  leave  the  town  of  Nineveh  to 
go  to  your  camp  in  the  Black  Bottoms  ?" 

"I  lef  dess  a  li'l  while  atter  half  atter  eight,  suh." 

"How  do  you  know  this  ?" 

"  'Case  I  done,  ax  Ben  Dalton,  de  cullud  man, 
whar  I  been  visitin',  what  was  de  time  dess  as  I  was 
a-tellin'  him  good-by,  suh." 

"What  road  did  you  take  to  go  to  your  camp  in 
the  Black  Bottoms?" 

"Why,  suh,  'cose  I  took'n  de  Black  Bottoms  road, 
suh — leas'ways  'twell  I  comes  to  a  li'l  hog-path  what 
leads  down  into  de  big  swamps  off'n  dat-ar  road, 
suh." 

"How  far  is  it  from  town  before  you  come  to 
that  hog-path,  Abe?" 

"Dess  'bout'n  a  mile,  suh,  ter  de  bes'  o'  my  knowl- 
edge, and  speakin'  sorter  off-hand  lak,  suh." 

272 


MISSOURI    VS.  TOM    STRICKLAND 

"Do  you  know  where  the  Tucker  place  is  on  the 
Black  Bottoms  road  ?" 

"Yass,  suh." 

"Is  that  path  of  which  you  speak  more  or  less 
than  half-way  to  the  Tucker  place  as  you  go  out 
from  town?" 

"Hit  dess  a  li'l  mo'n  half-ways,  suh." 

"Now,  Abram," — and  the  prosecuting  attorney 
straightened  to  his  full  height  and  spoke  with  es- 
pecial earnestness — "I  want  you  to  tell  the  jury  ex- 
actly what  happened  to  you  on  your  way  to  your 
camp  in  the  Black  Bottoms  that  night.  Tell  it  in 
your  own  way,  just  as  it  happened." 

The  witness  looked  at  his  questioner  with  appre- 
hension in  his  childlike  eyes. 

"Mistah  Cromwell,  you — you  done  gimme  yo' 
wu'd  dey  ain't  no  harm  a-comin'  to  me  ef  I  tells 
dat?"  he  cried  appealingly.  "And  you  done  tole  me 
I  hatter  tell  it,  whur'  I  wants  to  er  no — ain't  dat  so  ?" 

"That  is  the  truth,  Abe.  The  law  compels  you  to 
testify  to  the  facts  of  your  knowledge  bearing  upon 
this  case.  And  it  is  the  law's  intent  that  no  harm 
shall  come  to  you  for  so  doing." 

The  witness  began  in  a  low  voice.     "Dey  wa'n't 
273 


COLONEL  TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

nothin'  happened  to  me  'twell  I  come  nigh  to  dat-ar 
hog-path  what  cuts  off  inter  de  bottoms,"  he  said. 
"Dess  fo'  I  got  dar,  suh,  I  heern  shootin'.  One  shot, 
and  den  annurr',  hit  seem  lak  ter  me,  suh.  I  was 
skeered  when  I  hear  dat-ar  shootin'  and  seem  lak  I 
better  not  go  on  ter  whar  I  sho'  ter  run  smack  into 
it.  Mistah  Cromwell — yass,  suh,  I'se  a-tellin'  it  ter 
de  jury,  suh.  So  huccome  I  done  hid  in  de  brush 
side  o'  de  road,  suh,  layin'  flat  on  de  groun'.  And 
dar  I  stayed,  suh." 

The  witness  hesitated. 

"Go  on,"  said  the  prosecuting  attorney.  "Tell 
the  jury  precisely  what  happened  next." 

"I  lay  dar,  lak  I  say,"  resumed  the  witness, 
"when,  all  of  a  sudden  lak,  a  man  come  down  de 
road  f'um  whar  I  heern  de  shootin'.  He  pass 
straight  by  me  on  de  road,  and  he  seem  to  be  stag- 
gerin'  lak.  He  was  talkin'  to  hisse'f  as  he  pass  whar 
I  was  hidin'  in  de  brush.  He  had  his  pistol  swingin' 
in  his  hand,  suh,  lak  a  man  what  too  excited  to  put 
it  back  atter  he  use  it,  suh." 

The  prosecuting  attorney  moved  a  step  nearer  the 
witness.  "You  saw  that  man  plainly,  Abe?"  he 
asked.  "You  got  a  good  look  at  his  face  ?" 

274 


MISSOURI    VS.  TOM    STRICKLAND 

"Yass,  suh.  Hit  was  a  bright  moonlight  night.  I 
seen  dat-ar  man  dess  as  plain  as  I  done  see  you  dis- 
hyar  minnit,  suh." 

"Did  you  recognize  him?" 

"Yass,  suh.  I  knowed  him  soon's  I  set  eyes  on  his 
face,  suh." 

"Do  you  see  him  in  this  court-room  now  ?" 

"Yass,  suh." 

"Point  him  out  to  the  jury,  Abe." 

The  negro,  now  feeling  reassured,  leveled  his 
black  finger  at  Tom  Strickland  dramatically.  The 
eyes  of  the  two,  the  white  man  and  the  black,  met, 
each  holding  the  other's  as  if  fascinated.  In  those 
of  the  witness  there  was  a  sort  of  histrionic  relish  of 
the  value  of  the  situation,  tempered  by  a  latent  ap- 
prehension. In  those  of  the  accused  there  was  a 
strange  and  pitiful  perplexity. 

"Dass  him,  suh,"  spoke  the  witness.  "Hit  was 
Mistah  Tom  Strickland  what  I  seen  passin'  me  on 
dat-ar  road,  suh.  Lawdy  massy !  I  done  know  him 
since  he  wa'n't  mo'n  knee-high  to  a  duck,  suh !" 

There  was  a  sudden  stir  throughout  the  court- 
room, a  movement  of  tense  excitement,  followed  by 
a  sinister  hush. 

275 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"After  you  saw  and  recognized  this  man,"  said 
the  prosecuting  attorney,  "what  happened  then?" 

"I  laid  right  dar  'twell  he  done  gone  out  o'  sight, 
suh.  He  was  a-goin'  in  to'ards  town,  and  I  done 
keep  my  eyes  on  him  'twell  he  turn  a  ben'  in  de  road 
and  I  cain't  see  him  no  mo'.  Den  I  wait  'twell  I  sho' 
he  ain't  a-comin'  back.  Atter  dat,  I  got  up  and 
started  on  my  way,  keepin'  in  de  shadow  side  o'  de 
road." 

Again  the  witness  paused. 

"Well?"  asked  the  prosecuting  attorney.  "Tell 
the  jury  what  happened  then,  Abe." 

The  witness  shuffled  uneasily  in  his  chair,  some- 
thing of  awe  in  his  black  face. 

"I — I  had  come  purty  nigh  to  de  hog-path  whar  I 
was  to  strike  off  inter  de  bottom  lands,"  he  resumed, 
"when  I  stumbled  ovah  sump'in  a-layin'  on  de 
groun',  part  in  de  road  and  part  in  de  grass  side  o' 
de  road." 

He  wiped  his  face  with  his  open  palm.  "Hit  was 
a  man,"  he  said — and  then,  his  voice  solemn — "and 
de  man  was  dead.  He  been  shot.  I  seen  de  place 
whar  he  shot — right  in  de  head,  'twix'  de  eyes,  on'y 
des  a  li'l  bit  higher  up.  When  I  stumble  ovah  him 

276 


MISSOURI    VS.  TOM    STRICKLAND 

and  nigh  fall,  I  stretch  out  my  hand,  down-lak,  and 
hit  tech  de  place  whar  he  been  shot  and  got  all 
bloody." 

The  negro  shuddered. 

"Did  you  see  the  face  of  this  man?"  asked  the 
prosecuting*  attorney. 

"Yass,  suh." 

"Did  you  recognize  it  ?" 

"Yass,  suh." 

"Abram,"  said  the  prosecuting  attorney,  "tell  the 
jury  who  the  dead  man  was  whose  body  you  thus 
found  and  whose  face  you  saw  and  recognized." 

"Hit  was  young  Mistah  Stamford  Tucker,"  the 
witness  made  answer.  "I  knowed  him,  suh,  dess  as 
well  as  I  know  Mistah  Tom  Strickland  settin'  right 
hyar  'fo'  my  eyes,  suh." 

The  prosecuting  attorney  waited  a  moment,  his 
shrewd  eyes  studying  the  faces  of  the  jurors. 

"Abe,"  he  asked,  "why  didn't  you  at  once  report 
the  finding  of  Stamford  Tucker's  dead  body  and  the 
seeing  of  Thomas  W.  Strickland,  pistol  in  hand,  as 
he  came  away  from  the  spot  where  that  body  lay  ?" 

The  witness  shook  his  head  stubbornly.  "  'Twan't 
none  o'  my  business,  suh,"  he  replied.  "Hit's  a 

277 


COLONEL'   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

mighty  fool  nigger  what  goes  mixin'  hiss'ef  up  in  a 
shootin'  scrape  'twix'  two  white  gent'mun,  suh.  I 
was  skeered  ter  do  it,  suh,  dass  why — and  I  dess 
pick  up  my  feet  and  make  tracks  fas'  as  I  could  to 
whar  my  camp  in  de  bottom  lands  was,  suh.  And 
you  ain't  heern  no  wu'd  'bout'n  what  I  seen,  and  you 
ain't  had  me  fetched  to  yo*1  office,  'cept'n  I  was  fool 
ernuff  ter  tell  dat-ar  ole  Isr'el  Fant,  what  I  run  er- 
cross  down  in  de  bottom  lands,  suh !" 

The  state's  attorney  turned  to  the  counsel  for  the 
defense.  "You  may  take  the  witness,"  he  said. 

A  searching  cross-examination  failed  to  weaken 
in  any  respect  the  testimony  just  given.  At  its  con- 
clusion Major  Gentry  Dryden  whispered  earnestly 
with  Colonel  Bill  Strickland. 

It  was  plainly  a  dispirited  and  hopeless  confer- 
ence. Colonel  Strickland  leaned  back  wearily  at  the 
end. 

"It  can't  make  any  difference,"  he  muttered  sad- 
ly. "They've  got  the  rope  around  Tom's  neck, 
now." 

And,  although  the  words  were  not  audible  to  oth- 
ers, this  certainty  of  conviction  seemed  to  be  in  the 
thought  of  all.  Into  the  jurors'  faces  there  came  a 

278 


MISSOURI    VS.  TOM    STRICKLAND 

look  of  pity  as  their  eyes  met  those  of  the  accused 
man,  the  latter  perplexed,  bewildered,  helpless. 

"The  state  rests  its  case,"  announced  the  prose- 
cuting attorney.  A  profound  and  ominous  silence 
followed. 

It  was  broken  by  the  entrance  of  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter  into  the  court-room.  He  came  through  a 
door  opening  from  the  sheriff's  office  in  the  rear. 
His  clothing  was  covered  with  dust,  as  of  hurried 
travel  along  sun-scorched  roads.  He  made  his  way 
direct  to  where  Colonel  Bill  Strickland  and  Major 
Gentry  Dryden  were  sitting.  The  latter  rose  a  mo- 
ment later. 

"I  beg  the  court's  indulgence  for  a  little  time,"  he 
said  hurriedly.  "An  adjournment  is  not  asked — 
merely  opportunity  for  a  brief  conference." 

The  request  was  granted. 

Taking  hasty  notes  meanwhile,  Major  Dryden 
was  deep  in  consultation  with  Colonel  Todhunter. 
Suddenly  he  stood  erect  and  faced  the  trial  judge, 
his  eyes  ablaze  with  excitement. 

"May  it  please  the  court,"  he  said.  "New  evi- 
dence of  a  most  important  character  has  just  come 
into  the  possession  of  counsel  for  the  defense.  It 

279 


COLONEL   TODHUXTER  OF   MISSOURI 

compels  a  change  in  the  line  of  that  defense,  and  I 
beg  the  court's  indulgence  to  that  end." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  Nineveh  sheriff.  "Call 
Lottie-May  Doggett,"  he  said. 

"The  witness  is  not  present,"  replied  the  sheriff. 
"She  was  summoned  by  the  state,  and  a  deputy  sent 
to  find  her  reports  now  that  she  has  disappeared 
from  her  home." 

"She  has  just  come  back,"  was  the  reply.  "She  is 
here  now." 

And  Lottie-May  Doggett,  emerging  from  the 
sheriff's  own  room,  toolc  the  stand  in  answer  to  his 
call. 


280 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  SUDDEN  EMERGENCE  OF  "CHICKASAW  JESSE" 
BREAM 

THE  murmur  of  excitement  that  had  swept 
through  the  court-room  at  hearing  Major 
Gentry  Dryden's  announcement  sank  into  absolute 
silence  as  the  girl  confronted  the  crowd.  She  herself 
was  deadly  pale. 

"Where  were  you,  Miss  Doggett,"  asked  Major 
Dryden,  following  the  necessary  questions  as  to  the 
witness'  name,  place  of  residence,  and  the  like,  "on 
the  morning  of  the  twenty-seventh  day  of  July  just 
past?" 

"I  was  at  home  that  mornin',  suh." 

"Were  you  alone  there  ?" 

"Yes,  suh,  after  grandfather  left  me,  soon  as  he 
got  his  breakfas' — until  Colonel  Todhunter  come 
there,  maybe  some  two  hours  later'n  that,  suh." 

"What  did  Colonel  Todhunter  come  to  see  you 
about?" 

"He  came  to  tell  me  that  Stam  Tucker  had  been 
281 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

shot  and  killed  the  night  befo',  and  that  Tom  Strick- 
land had  been  arrested  for  killin'  him." 

"Was  that  the  first  you  had  heard  of  Stam  Tuck- 
er's death?" 

"Yes,  suh." 

"Did  you  know  before  then  that  a  threat  against 
Stamford  Tucker's  life  had  been  made?" 

"Yes,  suh." 

"Did  you  know  by  whom  that  threat  had  been 
made?" 

"Yes,  suh — I  knowed  the  man  who  made  it.  He 
made  it  to  me  when  him  and  me  was  alone  to- 
gether." 

"Who  was  that  man,  Miss  Doggett  ?" 

"It  was  Jesse  Bream,  suh — 'Chickasaw  Jesse,' 
folks  here  in  Nineveh  calls  him,  'cause  they  say  his 
old  grandmammy  what  came  from  Tennessee,  had 
Chickasaw  blood  in  her,  suh." 

"When  did  Jesse  Bream  make  this  threat  against 
Stamford  Tucker's  life  in  your  presence?" 

"On  the  mornin'  after  that  party  what  the  soldier 
company  here  in  Nineveh  gave  at  the  hotel,  suh." 

"What  led  him  to  make  the  threat  ?" 

"Somethiir  that  I  told  him  about  Stam  Tucker, 
282 


CHICKASAW   JESSE   BREAM 

sub — somethin'  that  had  come  up  at  the  party  I  just 
spoke  of." 

"You  must  be  more  definite  than  this,  if  you 
please,  Miss  Doggett.  What  had  you  told  Jesse 
Bream  that  caused  him  to  make  this  threat?" 

"He  come  to  see  me  about  somethin'  I  had  said  to 
Mrs.  Todhunter  the  night  befo',  at  the  party.  They 
shamed  me  that  night — and  I  told  Mrs.  Todhunter 
that  Tom  Strickland  was  the  man  who  had  brought 
that  shame  on  me.  And  then  Jesse  Bream  came  to 
see  me  the  next  mornin'.  He  had  been  worryin'  me 
to  marry  him,  and  he  still  wanted  to  marry  me,  but 
he  said  he  was  goin'  to  kill  Tom  Strickland  for 
wrongin'  me — and  it  was  then  I  told  him  about 
Stam  Tucker." 

"What  about  Stam  Tucker,  Miss  Doggett?" 

"Why — I — I  got  skeered  for  Tom  Strickland, 
suh — and — and — well,  'fo'  I  knowed  what  I  was 
a-sayin',  I  told  Jesse  the  truth — that  it  was  Stam 
Tucker  and  not  Tom  Strickland,  who  had  brought 
my  shame  'pon  me.  And  it  was  then  tHidt  Jesse  said 
he  meant  to  waylay  and  kill  Stam  Tuc<er  the  first 
chance." 

"Then,  Miss  Doggett,  when  Colonel  Todhunter 
283 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

told  you  that  Stamford  Tucker  had  been  shot  and 
killed,  and  that  Tom  Strickland  was  charged  with 
the  crime,  you  had  good  reason  to  believe  that  it  was 
Jesse  Bream  and  not  Tom  Strickland,  who  did  the 
killing?" 

"Yes,  suh." 

"Why  did  you  not  tell  Colonel  Todhunter  this?" 

"  'Cause  I  was  a-fear'd  to,  suh.  Jesse  had  done 
told  me  that  he  was  a-goin'  to  do  it  for  my  sake,  and 
that  if  I  ever  so  much  as  breathed  a  word  of  it,  he 
would  kill  me,  too,  but  that  he'd  take  me  away  and 
marry  me  if  I  didn't.  He  would  ha'  killed  me,  too, 
— I  knowed  that  mighty  well !" 

"Had  you  promised  Jesse  Bream  to  go  away  with 
him?" 

"Yes,  suh,  I  had.  I  wanted  to  get  away  from 
Nineveh  where  I'd  been  shamed  and  disgraced,  and 
he  was  the  only  man  what  would  ha'  married  me 
after  that.  I  might  ha'  told  Colonel  Todhunter  the 
truth — if  I  hadn't  been  a-feared  o'  Jesse,  and  if  I 
hadn't  seen  jtfrat  it  would  be  evenin'  things  up  with 
Tom  Strickland  as  well  as  Jesse  had  evened  'em  up 
with  Stam  Tucker,  if  I  went  away  with  him." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  evening  up  things  with 
284 


CHICKASAW   JESSE    BREAM 

Tom  Strickland  ?  You  have  just  testified  under  oath 
that  Tom  Strickland  had  done  you  no  wrong." 

The  girl  was  silent  for  a  moment.  Her  face 
flushed  a  dark  red  and  then  went  white  again. 

"Tom  Strickland  made  me  eat  my  heart  out  for 
him!"  she  cried  suddenly,  shame  and  a  desperate 
defiance  in  the  passionate  eyes  that  confronted  her 
audience.  "He  wouldn't  see  that  I  loved  him  bet- 
ter'n  anything  else  in  all  this  world,  and  that  I  want- 
ed him  to  love  me  the  same  way.  And  the  reason 
he  wouldn't  see  what  I  was  always  a-showin'  him 
was  that  he  was  so  dead  in  love  with  Miss  Mary 
Todhunter!  That's  what  made  me  tell  that  lie 
against  him  when  I  knowed  that  Mrs.  Todhunter 
was  a-goin'  to  ask  me  to  leave  the  party.  And  that's 
what  made  me  willin'  to  run  away  with  Jesse  Bream 
and  let  Tom  Strickland  get  out  of  his  trouble  the 
best  way  he  could.  They  wa'n't  none  of  'em  carin' 
what  become  of  me — well,  I  wouldn't  care  what 
become  of  them !" 

There  was  a  pitiful  break  in  the  girl's  voice. 

"I  didn't  care  the  tip  of  my  finger  for  Jesse 
Bream!"  she  cried.  "I  hated  and  despised  him! 
But  he  was  willin'  to  marry  me  and  take  me  away 

285 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

from  Nineveh — and  so  I  kep'  my  mouth  shet  and 
waited  for  him  to  come  and  do  it !" 

"I  am  going  to  ask  you,  Miss  Doggett,"  said 
Major  Gentry  Dryden,  "when  was  the  first  time  you 
saw  Jesse  Bream  after  Colonel  Todhunter's  visit  to 
you  that  day?" 

"I  didn't  see  him  till  the  day  before  this-here  trial 
begun,  suh.  He  had  gone  away  to  fix  things  up  for 
marryin'  me  and  takin'  me  down  somewhere  in  Ok- 
lahoma, and  he  didn't  come  back  till  then." 

"What  time  of  the  day  did  you  see  him?" 

"I  reckon  'twas  'long  about  three  or  fo'  o'clock  in 
the  day,  suh.  He  didn't  come  clear  to  the  house, 
'cause  he  saw  grandfather  settin'  on  the  front  gal- 
lery. But  he)  give  a  whistle  I  knew,  and  I  went  out 
and  met  him."  * 

"Where  did  you  meet  him?" 

"In  a  little  clump  o'  woods  'cross  the  road,  not  far 
from  the  old  cabin  where  Aunt  Mirandy  Ransom 
and  old  Jed  Ransom,  her  husband,  two  colored  peo- 
ple, are  livin',  suh." 

"What  had  he  come  to  see  you  about  ?" 

"He  come  to  tell  me  that  ever'thing  was  ready 
for  us  to  run  away  that  very  night.  He  was  plan- 

286 


CHICKASAW   JESSE    BREAM 

nin'  to  drive  over  into  Rails  County,  and  we'd  get 
married  there  and  then  start  for  Oklahoma.  And 
he'd  been  drinkin'  and  was  braggin'  about  how  he'd 
killed  Stam  Tucker.  It  was  then  I  knowed  for  the 
first  time,  from  his  own  lips,  that  it  was  him  that 
killed  Stam — but  I'd  been  certain  of  it  in  my  mind 
all  the  time." 

"Did  you  consent  to  go  away  with  him?" 
"Yes,  suh,  and  we  went  away  together.  The  first 
day  and  night  he  got  to  drinkin',  and  when  we 
stopped  at  the  hotel  in  Sidon  he  quarreled  with  me, 
keepin'  on  sayin'  that  I  was  in  love  with  Tom  Strick- 
land and  would  blab  about  who  did  really  murder 
Stam  Tucker  if  I  got  half  a  chance.  And  some- 
thin'  I  said  then,  about  my  wishin'  I  had  told  the 
truth  at  first,  skeered  him.  'Stead  o'  stayin'  in 
Sidon  till  he  was  ready  to  go  straight  to  Oklahoma, 
he  took  me  away  from  there  the  next  day.  We  went 
fur,  too,  and  he  was  always  a-watchin'  me.  At  day- 
break one  mornin'  we  come  to  a  tumble-down  cabin 
deep  in  the  woods,  and  he  said  that's  where  we'd 
stay  till  dark — and  then  I  begun  to  be  skeered  my- 
self." 

"Of  what  were  you  afraid?" 
287 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"I  begun  to  feel  skeered  that  he  was  a-goin'  to  kill 
me.  We  had  quarreled  and  quarreled,  and  when- 
ever I  lost  my  temper  good  and  proper  I  told  him 
the  truth — that  I  oughtn't  to  leave  Tom  Strickland 
to  be  hung  when  I  knowed  Tom  wasn't  guilty  and 
knowed  who  was.  Then — well,  all  of  a  sudden,  we 
had  our  biggest  quarrel,  and  what  I'd  been  skeered 
of  come  to  pass !" 

"What  do  you  mean  by  that,  Miss  Doggett  ?" 

"I  mean  that  Chickasaw  Jesse  tried  to  kill  me, 
suh.  He  sorter  went  crazy  and  jumped  for  me  with 
his  bowie-knife  in  his  hand — and  I'd  ha'  been  dead 
the  next  minute  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter,  suh." 

"For  Colonel  Todhunter?" 

"Yes,  suh.  Colonel  Todhunter  busted  in  the  door 
o'  the  cabin  that  very  minute,  bringin'  the  sheriff  o' 
Rails  County  along  with  him.  Him  and  the  sheriff 
both  had  their  pistols  sighted  on  Jesse  and  made 
him  throw  his  knife  down.  And  then  I  done 
what  I'd  wanted  to  do  all  the  time.  I  told  them  it 
was  Chickasaw  Jesse  Bream  who  had  killed  Stam 
Tucker." 

"And  what  happened  when  you  did  that?" 
288 


CHICKASAW   JESSE   BREAM 

The  girl  shivered.  "I  don't  like  to  think  about 
it — he  made  me  feel  like  a  cowardly  hound-dog!" 
she  said,  a  new  shame  in  her  reckless  eyes.  "Jesse 
Bream  just  laughed  and  folded  his  arms  and  looked 
at  me  and  then  at  Colonel  Todhunter  and  the  sheriff 
and  said  that  I  told  the  truth.  'I  killed  Stam  Tucker 
because  he  ruined  Lottie-May,'  he  said,  smilin'. 
'And  I  run  away  with  her  to  marry  her.  But  she's 
tellin'  the  truth  now  to  get  shet  o'  me,  and  I  don't 
give  a  damn  what  comes  next.  Take  me  and  hang 
me — I'm  done !' ' 

A  hush  of  horror  held  the  crowded  court- room  in 
its  grip.  Lottie-May  Doggett  suddenly  lifted  her 
arms  in  a  gesture  of  desperate  exultation. 

"Anyway,  I'm  glad!"  she  cried.  "I'm  glad!  I 
don't  know  how  Colonel  Todhunter  happened  to 
come  there  the  way  he  did,  but  I'm  glad !  I  thanked 
God  when  I  saw  him — because  then  I  knew  that 
Tom  Strickland  wa'n't  a-goin'  to  hang  for  what 
Chickasaw  Jesse  had  done !" 

A  moment  later  the  witness  was  turned  over  to 
the  state.  The  cross-examination  strengthened, 
rather  than  shook,  her  testimony  for  the  defense. 

"Call  Colonel  Thurston  T.  Todhunter!"  said  Ma- 
289 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

jor  Dryden.  The  new  witness,  travel-stained  and 
somewhat  worn,  physically,  took  the  stand. 

Briefly,  under  the  questioning  of  the  leading  coun- 
sel for  the  defense,  Colonel  Todhunter  told  of  his 
visit  to  Lottie-May  Doggett  on  the  forenoon  follow- 
ing the  murder  of  Stamford  Tucker. 

"Where  did  you  go,  Colonel  Todhunter,"  asked 
Major  Dryden,  "when  you  left  the  DoggettV  house 
after  that  visit?" 

"I  went  to  a  cabin  across  the  road,  just  a  few 
yards  down  from  the  Doggetts'  gate,  to  see  Aunt 
Mirandy  Ransom,  an  old  colored  woman  who  lived 
there." 

"Was  it  in  connection  with  your  object  in  calling 
on  Miss  Lottie-May  Doggett  that  you  wished  to  see 
this  colored  woman?" 

"It  was,  suh." 

"What  was  your  reason  for  wanting  to  see  Mi- 
randa Ransom  that  time,  Colonel  Todhunter?" 

"I  wanted  to  engage  her  to  keep  a  close  watch  on 
the  girl,  Lottie-May  Doggett,  suh.  I  did  not  believe 
that  Tom  Strickland  killed  Stamford  Tucker,  nor 
did  I  believe  that  he  was  guilty  of  wrongin'  Lottie- 
May.  He  himself  had  told  me  that  the  girl  con- 

290 


CHICKASAW   JESSE    BREAM 

fessed  to  him  that  Stamford  Tucker  had  been  mak- 
in'  love  to  her  secretly.  I  felt  sure  in  my  own  mind 
that  Stamford  Tucker  had  been  killed  for  wrongin' 
Lottie-May  Doggett — and  this  would  mean  that  he 
was  killed  by  some  man  who  loved  Lottie-May  and 
knew  that  Stamford  Tucker  had  wronged  her,  or 
that  the  girl  herself  had  killed  him.  It  all  looked 
mighty  plain  to  me,  suh — and,  lookin'  that  way,  I 
couldn't  help  feelin'  that  whatever  developments 
might  come,  pointin'  to  the  real  murderer,  would  be 
mighty  likely  to  come  right  there  at  Lottie-May's 
home.  I  wanted  somebody  to  watch  that  house,  and 
I  knew  I  could  depend  on  Aunt  Mirandy  Ransom 
better'n  on  anybody  else." 

"Did  you  see  this  woman,  Miranda  Ransom,  sir?" 

"I  did,  suh.  She  promised  to  keep  a  close  watch 
on  the  girl  and  on  the  house,  and  she  kept  her  word. 
It  was  through  her  that  I  learned  the  news  that  sent 
me  away  to  Rails  County  lookin'  for  Chickasaw 
Jesse  Bream  and  Lottie-May  Doggett,  suh." 

"Do  you  mean  that  she  learned  of  their  flight, 
Colonel  Todhunter?" 

"Yes,  suh.  She  crep'  up  close  enough  to  overhear 
what  they  was  a-sayin'  when  they  met  in  that  clump 

291 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

o'  trees  between  the  Doggett  house  and  the  Ran- 
soms' cabin,  suh.  She  heard  all  that  went  on  be- 
tween 'em,  suh — Chickasaw  Jesse's  declaration 
that  it  'was  him  that  killed  Stamford  Tucker,  their 
plans  for  goin'  away  to  get  married  and  then  goin' 
to  live  in  Oklahoma,  and  all  the  rest  o'  their  talk, 
suh.  She  was  waitin'  for  me  when  I  got  home  from 
Colonel  Bill  Strickland's  the  night  before  this  trial 
began,  and  she  told  me  the  whole  story." 

"What  did  you  do  then,  Colonel  Todhunter?" 
"There  wasn't  but  one  thing  to  be  done,  suh,  if 
Chickasaw  Jesse  was  to  be  caught  and  Tom  Strick- 
land saved  from  bein'  found  guilty  of  murderin' 
Stam  Tucker.  That  one  thing  was  to  follow  Jesse 
Bream  and  Lottie-May  Doggett  without  losin'  a 
minute's  time  and  arrest  him  befo'  he  got  out  o'  the 
state,  suh.  I  left  at  once,  and  I  drove  all  that  night 
as  fast  as  I  could.  I  got  hold  o'  Jim  Woodleaf,  the 
sheriff  of  Rails  County,  next  day,  and  went  to  find 
Chickasaw  Jesse  and  take  him  into  custody.  We 
was  slow  in  findin'  his  trail,  but  we  did.  We  done  it 
just  in  time,  too,  to  keep  him  from  murderin'  the 
girl  as  well,  suh." 

The  witness  then  confirmed  in  detail  that  part  of 
292 


CHICKASAW   JESSE    BREAM 

the  girl's  testimony  relating  to  the  capture  of  Jesse 
Bream. 

"Did  this  man,  Jesse  Bream,  make  a  confession  of 
his  guilt  as  being  the  murderer  of  Stamford 
Tucker?" 

"Yes,  suh.  And,  furthermore,  under  oath,  he 
told  a  mighty  strange  story  of  a  happenin'  that  in 
itself  might  ha'  hung  Tom  Strickland  if  anybody 
else  had  seen  it  and  not  known  all  the  facts  in  the 
case,  suh." 

There  was  a  quick  stir  of  heightened  dramatic 
expectancy  in  the  court-room.  Major  Gentry  Dry- 
den  paused  until  it  had  subsided. 

"What  was  that  strange  story,  Colonel  Todhun- 
ter,"  he  asked,  "which,  as  you  have  just  testified, 
the  man,  Jesse  Bream,  told  you  and  the  sheriff  of 
Rails  County  under  oath?" 

"He  told  me,  suh,  that  Tom  Strickland  himself 
appeared  on  the  scene  of  the  murder  almost  the  next 
moment.  'As  I  hollered  to  Stam  Tucker,  cussin' 
him,  and  tellin'  him  that  I  was  a-goin'  to  kill  him 
for  havin'  wronged  Lottie-May,'  said  Chickasaw 
Jesse  Bream,  'Stam  Tucker  drew  his  gun  and  fired 
just  the  minit  I  fired.  My  shot  got  him,  but  his'n 

293 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

didn't  tech  me.  When  I  saw  that  he  was  a-layin' 
still,  I  ran  up  to  his  body,  looked  down  and  saw  that 
I  had  plunked  him  through  the  head,  right  between 
the  eyes,  and  that  he  was  stone  dead.  Then  I  turned 
and  started  to  run  down  the  road  to'ards  the  town 
of  Nineveh. 

"  'I  hadn't  gone  any  ways,  hardly,  when  a  man 
came  to'ards  me  on  that  road.  When  he  saw  me  he 
laughed — and  the  next  minit  he  outs  with  his  gun 
and  fires  at  me.  I  was  skeered,  'cause  I  didn't  want 
to  be  recognized,  and  I  turns  and  runs  straight 
through  the  woods,  lookin'  back  once  or  twice.  And 
that  man  came  to  the  edge  of  the  woods  and  I  heard 
him  laugh,  and  then  mutter  like  he  was  drunk  and 
talkin'  to  himself — and  then  he  deliberately  turned 
back  on  the  Black  Bottoms  road  and  went  away 
to'ards  town.'  " 

"Did  Jesse  Bream  tell  you  and  the  sheriff  of  Rails 
County,  Colonel  Todhunter,  that  he  recognized  the 
man  whom  he  thus  met  after  having  killed  Stam- 
ford Tucker?" 

"He  did,  suh." 

"What  was  that  man's  name?" 

"It  was  Thomas  W.  Strickland,  suh.  Chickasaw 
294 


CHICKASAW   JESSE    BREAM 

Jesse  Bream  swears  that  he  saw  him  plainly,  and  he 
takes  his  oath  that  it  was  Tom  Strickland." 

"Did  Jesse  Bream  tell  you  what  he  did  after  that 
encounter,  Colonel  Todhunter?" 

"Yes,  suh.  He1  says  that  he  lay  out  in  the  woods 
for  about  an  hour,  and  that  then  he  went  back  on  the 
road  and  came  into  town,  and  the  next  day  he  went 
to  Oklahoma,  not  gettin'  back  here  to  Nineveh  un- 
til the  day  before  the  trial  began,  suh." 

There  was  a  momentary  pause. 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  resumed  Major  Dryden 
quietly,  "you  say  that  the  man,  Jesse  Bream,  made 
these  statements,  confessing  that  he  killed  Stamford 
Tucker  on  the  night  of  July  twenty-sixth  just  past, 
and  including  the  other  facts  you  have  just  men- 
tioned, to  you  and  to  the  sheriff  of  Rails  County  un- 
der oath?" 

"Yes,  suh,  he  did." 

"Is  there  any  record  of  this  confession  ?" 

"Yes,  suh.  The  confession  is  written,  sworn  to 
and  signed  by  Jesse  Bream.  It  is  attested  by  two 
competent  witnesses.  It  is  in  the  possession  of  the 
sheriff  of  Rails  County.  And  the  sheriff  of  Rails 
County  has  just  delivered  the  person  of  Jesse  Bream 

295 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

to  the  jail  authorities  here  in  Nineveh,  suh,  chargin' 
him,  on  his  own  confession,  with  the  murder  of 
Stamford  Tucker." 

"May  it  please  the  court,"  said  Major  Dryden, 
"the  defense  will  next  place  in  evidence  this  sworn 
confession  of  Jesse  Bream  and  ask  that  the  case 
against  Thomas  W.  Strickland,  charged  with  the 
murder  of  Stamford  Tucker,  be  dismissed." 

There  was  a  sudden  and  tensely  dramatic  stir 
through  the  crowded  court-room.  It  was  followed 
by  a  triumphant  cheer  from  a  group  of  Tom  Strick- 
land's friends  near  the  door.  The  next  instant  the 
place  rang  with  jubilant  clamor,  so  overwhelming 
now  was  the  certainty  of  Tom's  innocence. 

And  twenty  minutes  later  Thomas  W.  Strickland 
stood  a  free  man,  cleared  of  the  dreadful  crime  that 
had  been  laid  to  his  doing. 

But  Colonel  Todhunter  was  not  among  those  who 
first  crowded  around  Tom  Strickland  with  their  con- 
gratulations. He  went  instead  to  where  he  had  seen 
old  Rafe  Doggett  almost  furtively  join  Lottie-May, 
sitting  apart  within  the  railed  inclosure  after  having 
given  her  testimony.  Alike  upon  the  faces  of  the  old 

296 


CHICKASAW   JESSE    BREAM 

man  and  his  granddaughter  there  rested  an  expres- 
sion of  pathetic  dread. 

"What  air  they  a-goin'  to  do  to  my  girl,  Colonel 
Todhunter?"  asked  old  Doggett  piteously.  "  'Tain't 
all  her  fault  that  she  done  what  she  done,  keepin'  her 
mouth  shet  about  Chickasaw  Jesse,  and  then  runnin' 
away  with  him.  She  wanted  to  tell  all  she  knowed, 
but  she  was  a-skeered  for  her  life,  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  I  ain't  excusin'  her  none  for  her  own  bad- 
ness, God  knows,  but  the  law  ain't  got  no  call  to  pun- 
ish her  along  o'  Chickasaw  Jesse's  sin !" 

"The  law  ain't  goin'  to  punish  her,  Rafe,"  replied 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "I've  already  made  sure  just 
how  Lottie-May  stands.  She'd  ha'  been  an  accom- 
plice o'  Chickasaw  Jesse's,  for  not  comin'  here  at 
first  and  tellin'  what  she  knew,  if  the  truth  wasn't 
plain  now  that  she  didn't  tell  because  Chickasaw 
Jesse  threatened  to  kill  her  if  she  did.  And  her  want- 
in'  to  testify  in  Tom  Strickland's  behalf,  and  doin'  it 
like  she  did,  proves  that  she  was  innocent  just  the 
minute  she  was  a  free  agent.  I've  laid  all  these  facts 
before  the  court,  Rafe.  The  law  ain't  goin'  to  pun- 
ish Lottie-May." 

297 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

Old  Rafe  Doggett  bowed  his  white  head  as  if  in 
prayer. 

"Thank  the  Lord  God  Almighty!"  he  spoke  at 
last.  "An'  me  and  Lottie-May  won't  trouble  Nine- 
veh's folks  after  this  day.  I'm  a-goin'  away  f'um 
here,  Colonel  Todhtmter.  I  couldn't  live  here  no 
more  to  save  my  life.  An'  Lottie-May's  a-goin'  with 
me — goin'  somewhere  away  f'um  here,  where  her 
mother's  shame  and  hers  won't  be  in  ever'body's 
mouth  like  now  in  Nineveh." 

"You  can  go  any  time  you  want  to,  Rafe,"  said 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "Th5  ain't  no  charge  against 
Lottie-May  on  the  docket  o'  this  court.  You  can  go 
now,  if  you  feel  like  it." 

The  old  man  and  the  young  girl  moved  toward  the 
door. 

Colonel  Todhunter  accompanied  them,  screening 
both,  as  far  as  lay  in  his  power,  from  the  curious 
staring  of  the  multitude. 

Lottie-May  spoke  no  word  during  their  progress. 
Her  face  was  still  tense  with  the  shadow  of  that 
dread  but  lately  lifted  from  her  soul.  More  than 
ever  did  she  seem  the  Hagar  of  this  little  Missouri 

298 


CHICKASAW   JESSE    BREAM 

community — a  Hagar  now  going  into  uttermost 
exile. 

At  the  door  she  turned  and  looked  back  into  the 
court-room.  Her  eyes  rested  upon  Tom  Strickland's 
face.  Mary  Todhunter  stood  at  Tom's  side.  A  great 
joy  shone  in  her  eyes.  Tom's  glance  lingered  with 
a  deep  fondness  upon  this  girl  whom  he  loved  so 
dearly. 

With  a  little  cry  of  poignant  heartbreak  Lottie- 
May  Doggett  threw  one  arm  across  her  grand- 
father's age-stooped  shoulders,  seeming  to  draw  him 
and  herself  beyond  the  seeing  of  that  which  had  so 
moved  her  to  uncontrollable  anguish. 

The  next  moment  the  door  had  closed  upon  the 
two,  shutting  them  out  from  Nineveh's  vision. 


299 


CHAPTER  XXI 

FOLLOWING  A  GREAT  VICTORY,  COLONEL  TODHUNTER 
CONFRONTS  DEFEAT 

DURING  a  lull  in  the  excited  jubilation  that 
followed  Tom  Strickland's  acquittal,  and 
having  first  congratulated  Tom  himself,  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter  turned  to  Colonel  Strickland,  who  stood  with 
her  husband  a  few  feet  away,  Colonel  Todhunter 
having  by  this  time  joined  the  group. 

"I  feel  sure  you  know  how  rejoiced  I  am  that 
Tom  has  been  acquitted,"  she  said,  her  frank  eyes 
testifying  to  the  truth.  "I  have  always  loved  him 
as  if  he  was  my  own  son.  But  I  had  to  do  what  I 
did  after  that  dreadful  night  of  the  party  at  the  ho- 
tel. The  accusation  made  against  him  by  that  girl, 
Lottie-May  Doggett,  left  me  no  alternative  but  to 
forbid  him  seeing  Mary  unless  he  could  clear  himself 
of  the  sin  with  which  the  girl  herself  charged  him." 

"I  know  just  how  you  felt,  Mrs.  Todhunter,"  re- 
plied Colonel  Strickland.  "It  was  a  terrible  situa- 
tion. Naturally,  it  hurt  us  all  that  Tom  was  made 

300 


'  THE  COLONEL  CONFRONTS  DEFEAT 

to  appear  guilty,  but  there  was  the  cold  fact  that 
Lottie-May  Doggett  publicly  declared  him  guilty, 
and  it  seemed  incredible  that  she  would  do  this  if 
he  was  innocent.  And  I  know  now  that  you  are 
sincerely  glad  because  the  truth  has  come  out.  You 
don't  have  to  tell  me  anything  about  it,  ma'am." 

At  this  moment  Mary  herself,  a  great  happiness 
shining  in  her  face,  although  her  eyes  were  wet  with 
tears,  joined  the  group.  Colonel  Strickland  turned 
to  her  with  a  smile. 

"I  delivered  that  message  of  yours  to  Tom,  Miss 
Mary,"  he  said.  "The  message  you  gave  me  when 
he  was  in  the  jail.  I  just  wish  you  could  have  seen 
how  proud  and  happy  it  made  him!  He  needed  it 
mighty  bad  that  day." 

Mary  blushed  rose-red.  "Please  don't  remind 
Tom  of  my  message,  Colonel  Strickland !"  she  cried 
in  a  pretty  confusion.  "I'll  be  ashamed  to  look  him 
in  the  face  again  if  you  do !" 

"I  don't  see  why  you  should  be,"  laughed  Colonel 
Strickland.  "It  just  simply  proved  to  Tom  at  a 
mighty  welcome  time  that  the  young  lady  he  loved 
so  dearly  loved  him  in  return,  so  you  ought  to  be 
proud  of  it  instead  of  ashamed." 

301 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

And  at  this  juncture  Colonel  Todhunter  inter- 
vened. "Don't  you  let  that  Mary  Todhunter  fool 
you,  Bill  Strickland,"  he  chuckled.  "She's  as  proud 
of  that  there  love-sick  message  to  her  sweetheart  at 
such  a  romantic  moment  as  if  it  was  all  in  a  senti- 
mental story  and  she  was  the  heroine  of  the  story ! 
And  when  she  and  Tom  have  gone  and  got  married 
— well,  between  you  and  me  and  the  gatepost,  I'll 
bet  poor  Tom  never  hears  the  last  of  it !" 

Mary  blushed  furiously  as  the  others  laughed. 

"When  she  and  Tom  are  married!"  repeated 
Colonel  Strickland,  his  eyes  resting  fondly  on 
Mary's  face.  "Doesn't  that  sound  good,  though?" 

Then  he  turned  point-blank  to  Mrs.  Todhunter. 
"When  shall  it  be,  Mrs.  Todhunter?"  he  asked. 
"You  and  Miss  Mary  have  got  to  be  good  now  and 
name  an  early  day !  When  shall  it  be  ?" 

But  at  this  alarming  question  Mary  herself  gave 
a  little  cry  of  maidenly  protest,  frantically  clutched 
her  mother's  arm  and  fairly  dragged  Mrs.  Tod- 
hunter out  of  range.  Yet  not  with  entire  success, 
for  the  latter  turned  a  laughing  face  back  to  Colonel 
Strickland  as  she  was  thus  convoyed  away. 

"Never  you  mind,  Colonel  Strickland !"  she  made 
302 


THE  COLONEL  CONFRONTS  DEFEAT 

fleeing  answer.  "I'm  going  to  work  hard  for  Tom! 
I  ought  to  do  it,  and  I  will !" 

Colonel  Todhunter,  with  a  parting  word  to  his 
old  friend,  set  out  to  join  Mrs.  Todhunter  and 
Mary.  But  he  had  not  gone  twenty  paces  when  he 
ran  plump  into  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sim  Birdsong  and  the 
redoubtable  Mrs.  Exall.  Astonishing  to  relate,  it 
was  Mrs.  Exall  herself,  her  grim  face  transformed 
into  a  beaming  visage  of  the  utmost  friendliness, 
who  spoke  first. 

"You  and  me  have  just  got  to  be  friends,  Colonel 
Todhunter!"  she  announced  fervently.  "There  ain't 
no  ifs,  ands  nor  buts  about  it,  after  what  you've 
done  for  poor  Tom  Strickland!  I  never  was  so 
scared  for  anybody  in  all  my  life  as  I  was  for  him — 
and  I  tell  you,  Colonel  Todhunter,  the  way  you 
worked  for  his  sake  and  learned  all  the  truth  and 
got  him  cleared  and  free  was  just  too  fine  for  any- 
thing! I'm  sorry  I  raked  you  over  the  coals  that 
way  the  night  you  come  to  my  house  and  told  me 
that  Sim  and  Angelica  had  run  away  and  got  mar- 
ried!" 

The  Colonel's  lips  twitched.  "I  reckon  I  didn't 
get  any  more'n  I  deserved,  Mrs.  Exall,"  he  made 

303 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

answer.  "Anyway,  it's  all  past  and  gone,  and  you 
was  sorely  tried  that  night.  So  th'  ain't  a-goin'  to 
be  no  hard  feelin's,  ma'am.  All's  well  that  ends 
well." 

"That's  exactly  what  I  say !"  conceded  Mrs.  Ex- 
all  vigorously.  "Maybe  Angelica  could  ha'  done 
better'n  to  marry  Sim,  but  I'll  say  this  much  for 
him — he's  makin'  her  a  good  husband,  and  I  reckon 
that's  all  I've  got  a  right  to  ask." 

"It  certainly  is,  ma !"  cried  Angelica,  who  seemed 
to  be  plucking  up  courage  as  a  wife.  "Sim's  just 
everything  that  he  should  be,  and  you  know  it!" 

Sim  Birdsong's  face  had  beamed  complacently 
even  at  Mrs.  Exall's  guarded  indorsement  of  him. 
It  fairly  glowed  at  Angelica's  tribute.  And,  when 
the  little  group  had  separated,  he  came  back  to 
Colonel  Todhunter,  radiant. 

"It's  all  right,  Colonel !"  he  said  proudly.  "We're 
just  as  happy  as  two  birds  in  a  nest,  and  as  for  An- 
gelica's ma,  why,  suh,  I  wouldn't  have  believed, 
without  seein'  it,  that  she  could  be  so  sweet !  She's 
a-goin'  to  be  just  like  a  second  mother  to  me, 
Colonel — you  mark  my  words !" 

And  the  Colonel,  shaking  Sim's  joyous  hand,  con- 
304 


THE  COLONEL  CONFRONTS  DEFEAT 

gratulated  him  in  fitting  terms.  But  he  contem- 
plated Mrs.  Exall's  martial  back  dubiously  as  her 
son-in-law  rejoined  her. 

"It  may  be  all  right  about  that  'second  mother' 
business,"  he  muttered  doubtfully.  "But  Sim's  got 
to  show  me — I'm  from  Mizzoorah !" 

That  same  evening  Colonel  Todhunter  went  to 
confer  with  the  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland  at 
his  home  concerning  the  latter's  campaign  prospects. 
The  outlook  was  not  encouraging. 

"Bill,"  said  Colonel  Todhunter,  "there's  just  one 
chance  for  us.  Tom's  acquittal  may  bring  about  a 
reaction  of  public  sentiment  in  your  favor,  if  two 
days  is  time  enough  for  the  news  to  sink  in  and 
create  the  natural  effect.  They'll  all  know  of  it — 
the  St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City  papers  are  full  of  the 
excitin'  story  of  his  sudden  acquittal,  and  every 
other  newspaper  in  the  state  will  have  a  lot  about  it. 
That's  where  it  may  prove  a  boomerang  for  the 
Yancey  gang — they  worked  up  public  interest  in 
the  case,  thinkin'  it  would  ruin  you  body  and  soul." 

Colonel  Strickland  shook  his  head.  "It's  too  late, 
Thurs,"  he  replied.  "I  reckon  I'll  have  to  stay  beat. 
But  I  ain't  worrying  about  that.  I  want  to  hear 

305 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

now  that  my  campaign  fund  has  been  raised,  so  as 
to  put  you  out  of  danger  of  any  loss." 

The  light  of  battle  was  in  Colonel  Todhunter's 
eyes. 

"I'm  thinkin'  about  your  gettin'  that  there  nomi- 
nation, Bill  Strickland !"  he  exclaimed.  "Not  about 
the  money:  Now  that  we  got  'em  beat  in  Tom's 
case,  I'd  like  to  whip  'em  straight  down  the  line, 
suh." 

The  other  laughed,  but  shook  his  head,  "They've 
got  too  big  a  bulge  on  us.  Everything's  fixed  now 
to  steal  the  St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City  vote  for  old 
Steve  Yancey,  and  that'll  settle  it.  The  judges  and 
clerks  of  election  are  all  Yancey  crooks,  appointed 
before  Bob  Peyton,  the  Yancey  chairman  of  the 
Board  of  Election  Commissioners  in  St.  Louis,  took 
sick  and  died  and  Randolph  Carter  was  named  to 
fill  the  vacancy,  and  the  St.  Louis  and  Kansas  City 
vote  is  what's  going  to  beat  me." 

Coloned  Todhunter  snorted  indignantly.  "A 
fight  ain't  over  till  one  side  or  the  other's  licked, 
suh!"  he  announced.  "And  I  ain't  licked  till  I 
holler  '  'miff,'  suh !  Th'  ain't  time  now  to  do  no 
more  on  the  stump,  but  I'm  a-goin'  to  send  out  a 

306 


THE  COLONEL  CONFRONTS  DEFEAT 

mighty  big  batch  o'  telegrams  to  our  best  workers 
all  over  the  state  and  see  if  we  can't  make  things 
count  the  way  they  ought  to  count.  When  I  quit 
fightin'  you'll  either  see  the  worst  whipped  man  you 
ever  saw  in  all  your  born  days — or  you'll  be  the 
Democratic  nominee  for  governor  of  Mizzoorah, 
Bill  Strickland!" 

Colonel  Strickland's  weary  eyes  were  contemplat- 
ing the  speaker  with  a  whimsical  envy  in  their  ex- 
pression. 

"I-gad,  Thurs!"  he  said,  "I  never  thought  I'd 
begrudge  another  man  his  pluck,  but  I'm  doing  that 
with  you  right  now,  my  friend.  I'm  too  tired  to 
fight  any  longer,  old  fellow — that's  the  truth  of  it. 
The  campaign's  over,  as  far  as  I'm  concerned.  I 
don't  want  to  hear  anything  more  but  the  final  re- 
sults, and  I'm  going  to  write  my  friends  in  St.  Louis 
not  to  bother  sending  me  anything  but  that.  The 
truth  is,  Thurs,  this  trouble  of  Tom's  has  taken 
something  out  of  my  spirit  that  don't  seem  to  come 
back." 

"It'll  come  back,  Bill,"  said  Coloned  Todhunter 
stoutly.  "And  you've  been  standing  the  gaff  like  a 
gamecock,  suh.  You've  done  all  a  man  in  your  po- 

307 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

sition  could  ha'  done — and  your  friends  will  do 
whatever  fightin'  remains  to  be  done.  You  just  take 
it  easy,  suh!" 

Tom  Strickland  entered  the  room.  He  looked 
pale  and  worn,  but  happy,  and  there  was  a  steadier 
manliness  in  his  face. 

"Mother's  asking  for  you  and  Colonel  Todhunter, 
father,"  he  said.  "She  wants  me  to  tell  you  that 
this  isn't  any  time  to  be  talking  politics." 

Colonel  Todhunter  laughed.  "Ain't  that  just  like 
a  woman,  Bill?"  he  asked.  "And  Mrs.  Strickland, 
for  all  she  knows,  on  the  very  edge  of  becomin'  the 
first  lady  of  Mizzoorah,  suh !  I'll  be  hamjiggered — 
well,  suh,  I  reckon  the  good  Lord  who  made  'em 
understands  'em,  but  it's  a  blamed  sight  more'n  I 
do.  Not  even  Mrs.  Todhunter,  suh !" 

He  chuckled.  Then  he  added,  "Least  of  all,  Mrs. 
Todhunter,  suh!" 


308 


CHAPTER    XXII 

MISSOURI  SPEAKS   AT  THE   POLLS 

DICK  CANTRILL,  because  the  Nineveh 
Blade  was  Colonel  Strickland's  home  organ, 
enterprisingly  arranged  for  a  bulletin  service  of  elec- 
tion returns  on  the  night  of  the  primary  vote,  and 
Colonel  Todhunter  and  the  Honorable  William  J. 
Strickland  were  among  the  first  to  arrive  at  the 
Blade  office  that  evening. 

Dick  himself,  with  Lycurgus  Quivey  as  his  assist- 
ant, was  to  handle  the  bulletins,  the  poet-schoolmas- 
ter's most  arduous  assignment  being  that  of  keeping 
the  Blade's  "devil"  in  swift  action  between  the  news- 
paper plant  and  the  telegraph  office  across  the  street. 
There  was  a  quite  considerable  gathering  of  Nine- 
veh voters  to  hear  what  news  might  come,  and  much 
speculation  as  to  the  result  was  being  voiced. 

"What  do  you  think  about  it  now,  Bill?"  asked 
Colonel  Todhunter  as  the  candidate  himself  ap- 
peared on  the  scene. 

309 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Just  the  same  as  I've  been  saying  right  along 
here  lately,"  replied  Colonel  Strickland  quietly. 
"I'll  go  into  Kansas  City  and  St.  Louis  considerably 
ahead  of  Yancey,  and  I'd  carry  St.  Louis  on  an 
honest  count.  Kansas  City,  being  Steve  Yancey's 
home,  will  roll  up  a  big  majority  for  him,  even  if 
they've  got  to  give  the  penitentiary  a  close  shave 
in  doing  it.  Still,  I'd  stand  a  fighting  chance  if  the 
St.  Louis  crooks  didn't  have  a  free  hand — but 
they've  got  it,  and  that's  what's  going  to  cook  my 
goose." 

"Well,  then,  givin'  'em  St.  Louis  and  Kansas 
City  both,  what  do  you  figure  your  plurality  in  the 
state '11  have  to  be  to  overcome  that  ?" 

"I  reckon  they  won't  dare  to  count  more'n  ten 
thousand  plurality  for  Yancey  in  St.  Louis — it 
would  be  too  plain  a  showing  of  crooked  work  if 
they  did — and  on  that  basis  I'd  need  something  like 
a  twenty-five-thousand  plurality  in  the  state.  Where 
am  I  going  to  get  it  ?" 

Colonel  Todhunter  looked  dubious.  "That  cer- 
tainly is  saddlin'  a  mighty  big  contract  on  Miz- 
zoorah,  to  offset  the  crooked  count  in  St.  Louis. 
But  I'll  just  be  double-whipsawed  if  we  won't  fight 

310 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS    AT    THE    POLLS 

'em  to  the  last  ditch,  suh.  No  man's  licked  till  he 
says  so  himself.  Why,  right  on  that  point,  suh,  I 
knew  an  old  fellow  over  yonder  in  Callaway  that 
never  got  licked  in  his  whole  life — he  died  fightin' 
to  his  last  breath,  like  a  reg'lar  old  Davy  Crockett, 
suh!" 

The  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland  smiled. 
"I'm  not  throwing  up  the  sponge,  either,"  he  re- 
sponded, "but  the  wisest  way  is  to  look  facts  straight 
in  the  face.  If  you  don't  you  simply  build  a  fool's 
paradise  that'll  make  you  feel  all  the  worse  if  things 
don't  turn  out  right." 

Colonel  Todhunter  chuckled.  "All  the  same,"  he 
commented,  "I'm  a-goin'  to  use  my  bricks,  right 
down  to  the  last  one,  buildin'  a  house  that  suits  me, 
not  one  that  suits  the  other  fellow.  'Hope  on,  hope 
ever,'  that's  my  motto — and  the  devil  take  the  hind- 
most !" 

"Here  you  are,  folks!"  called  out  Dick  Cantrill. 
"The  bulletins  are  beginning  to  come  in ! 

"  'Incomplete  returns  from  fifty  counties,  includ- 
ing Kansas  City  and  St.  Joe,  give  Yancey  38,750; 
Strickland,  18,248;  Judson,  17,416,  and  Sanford, 
10,385-'  " 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"Hooray  for  our  side!"  exclaimed  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter. 

The  others  laughed. 

"What  are  you  hoorayin'  about,  Thurs?"  drawled 
Colonel  Strickland,  amused.  "Trying  to  keep  your 
courage  up?" 

"No,  suh,  not  by  a  blamed  sight!"  retorted 
Colonel  Todhunter.  "First  news,  bad  news,  that's 
what  I'm  hoorayin'  about.  It's  always  meant  good 
luck,  and  it  means  good  luck  now,  as  sure  as  shoot- 
in'!" 

A  ripple  of  reassured  laughter  greeted  this  sally. 

"Here  we  are  again!"  announced  Dick  Cantrill. 
"  'Jackson,  Yancey's  home  county,  gives  him  5,000 
votes,  according  to  early  returns,  with  less  than  100 
for  his  opponents !" 

"That  isn't  so  bad,"  commented  Colonel  Strick- 
land, "if  the  later  returns  don't  increase  it." 

"  'Greene,  Buchanan  and  Vernon  Counties,' ' 
read  Dick  Cantrill,  "  'go  for  Yancey ;  also  Andrew, 
Cass,  Cole,  Daviss,  Dunklin,  Henry,  Johnson,  Liv- 
ingston, Platte,  Sullivan  and  Wright.' ' 

"Shucks!"  scoffed  Colonel  Todhunter.    "They've 
312 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS   AT   THE   POLLS 

been  conceded  all  along.  The  figgers — the  figgers 
is  what  we'd  like  to  get !" 

Cantrill  waved  a  new  bulletin  jubilantly. 

"  'Strickland's  heavy  lead,'  "  he  read,  "  'is  in  Jas- 
per, Callaway,  Pike,  Marion,  Audrain  and  Laclede 
Counties.  The  following  counties  also  go  for 
Strickland:  Berry,  Barton,  Bates,  Butler,  Camden, 
Clark,  Franklin,  Lewis,  Lincoln,  Macon,  Moniteau, 
Phelps,  Pulaski,  Polk,  Ripley,  St.  Francis,  Ste. 
Genevieve,  Saline,  Shelby,  Stoddart,  Wayne  and 
Webster.' " 

"Yeow-wow !"  yelled  Sim  Birdsong.  "We've  got 
'em  on  the  run !" 

"Figgers  is  still  what's  needed,  Sim,"  said  Colonel 
Todhunter.  "We've  knowed  them  was  our  coun- 
ties all  the  time — but  by  how  much?  That's  the 
question." 

"'Later  returns,'"  read  Dick  Cantrill,  "'show 
Yancey  leading  in  Kansas  City,  St.  Joseph  and  in 
thirty-three  counties  by  18,307.' ' 

"Now  we're  gettin'  down  to  it,"  spoke  Colonel 
Strickland  grimly.  "Let's  seep- thirty-three  coun- 
ties— um-hum — and  St.  Joe — say,  Thurs,  according 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

to  these  figures  they're  countin'  up  an  all-fired  heavy 
Yancey  vote  in  Kansas  City !" 

"'St.  Louis,'"  read  Editor  Cantrill.  "'Many 
disturbances  reported  at  the  polls.  Reliable  return 
on  vote  will  be  late.  Police  have  made  numerous 
arrests.' ' 

Colonel  Strickland  looked  worried.  "Todhun- 
ter,"  he  said,  "the  St.  Louis  gang's  getting  in  its 
work  for  Yancey  all  right." 

But  Colonel  Todhunter  disdained  this  view.  "I 
ain't  so  almighty  sure;  who  knows  but  what  that's 
a  good  sign  for  us  ?" 

"The  police  can't  reach  crooked  work  done  by 
judges  and  clerks  of  election,"  pointed  out  Colonel 
Strickland. 

"Well,"  replied  Colonel  Todhunter,  "they  can 
prevent  intimidation  at  the  polls,  anyway." 

But  even  he  had  to  join  in  the  laugh  that  followed. 

"  'Partial  returns  from  thirty-six  rural  coun- 
ties,' "  read  Dick  Cantrill,  "  'give  Yancey  iplurality 
of  4,000.' ' 

Then  the  bulletins  began  to  come  in  swift  succes- 
sion. The  Blade's  editor  read  them  breathlessly. 

"  'Returns  from  twenty-five  counties,  no  figures, 
3H 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS    AT    THE    POLLS 

show  Strickland  leading  in  thirteen,  Yancey  in  ten, 
and  Judson  in  two.' ' 

'  'The  following  county  pluralities  for  Yancey 
are  reported :  Nodaway,  500 ;  Barton,  700 ;  Jeffer- 
son, 200;  St.  Clair,  200;  Linn,  400.' ' 

"  'The  following  county  pluralities  for  Yancey 
are  reported:  Cooper,  50;  Cole,  300;  Buchanan, 
1,500.' " 

"'Henry  County's  vote  for  Strickland,  1,063; 
Yancey,  629;  Sanford,  534;  Judson,  87.' ' 

"  'Country  and  small  towns  have  gone  for  Strick- 
land.' " 

"  'Sixteen  out  of  twenty-one  precincts  in  Linn 
County  give  Strickland  517  plurality.' ' 

"  'Yancey  leads  in  Adair  County.' ' 

"  'Polk  County  gives  Strickland  307  plurality.' ' 

"  'Clinton  County  goes  for  Strickland.' ' 

"  'Grundy  County  goes  for  Yancey.' ' 

"  'Close  race  in  Pettis  County.' ' 

"  'Jefferson  City  gives  Yancey  692 ;  Strickland, 
287;  Judson,  125;  Sanford,  39.' ' 

"  'Ten  precincts  in  Sullivan  County,  Yancey,  248 ; 
Strickland,  186;  Sanford,  71 ;  Judson,  19.' ' 

"  'Lafayette  goes  for  Yancey.' ' 
315 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"  'It  is  now  estimated,  accepting  Yancey's  man- 
agement's claim  of  10,000  plurality  in  St.  Louis, 
that  Yancey  has  a  plurality  of  15,742.' ' 

There  was  an  ominous  pause. 

"Maybe  that's  so,  and  maybe  it  ain't,"  said 
Colonel  Todhunter  defiantly.  "But  we  ain't  accept- 
in'  no  Yancey  claims  at  this  stage  of  the  game — not 
by  a  jugful !" 

Returns  with  official  figures  now  began  to  come 
in  so  rapidly  that  Colonel  Strickland,  keeping  tab 
with  pencil  and  paper,  made  no  reply. 

Suddenly  Dick  Cantrill's  voice,  sounding  a  note 
of  apprehension,  rang  out : 

"  'Kansas  City  gives  Yancey  a  plurality  of 
12,093.' ' 

Dead  silence  followed  the  announcement. 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland  laid  down  the  pencil  with 
which  he  had  been  figuring. 

"That  settles  it,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "we're  done 
for." 

"We  ain't  heard  from  St.  Louis  yet,  Bill,"  sug- 
gested Colonel  Todhunter. 

"We  don't  need  to  wait  for  St.  Louis,"  replied 
Colonel  Strickland.  "If  they've  counted  up  a  12,000 

316 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS    AT    THE    POLLS 

plurality  against  me  in  Kansas  City,  they'll  play  the 
game  to  the  limit  in  St.  Louis,  too.  They're  only 
holding  St.  Louis  back  to  see  what's  needed.  If 
necessary,  they'll  plug  me  with  a  10,000  plurality 
there.  I'm  probably  beaten  by  18,000,  the  way 
things  look  now." 

Again  Dick  Cantrill's  voice  sounded.  "  'It  is 
now  estimated  that  Yancey  will  carry  the  state  by 
19,000.  His  managers  claim  that  he  is  nominated 
as  the  returns  now  stand.' ' 

Far  down  the  street  arose  the  sound  of  music  and 
cheering. 

Soon  the  strains  of  There'll  Be  a  Hot  Time  in 
the  Old  Town  To-night  were  plainly  distinguish- 
able, brought  nearer  and  nearer  by  a  large  marching 
body. 

It  was  the  Nineveh  Bugle  and  Drum  Corps,  head- 
ing the  Stephen  K.  Yancey  Campaign  Club,  starting 
out  on  a  triumphal  parade  to  celebrate  the  victory 
of  the  Honorable  Stephen  K.  Yancey  over  the  Hon- 
orable William  J.  Strickland  for  the  Democratic 
nomination  for  governor  of  Missouri. 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland  smiled  grimly. 

"Look  pleasant,  Thurston,"  he  said.     "Put  on 

317 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

your  sweetest  expression.  They'll  be  marching  by 
here  in  a  minute." 

"I'll  just  be  eternally  condemned  if  I  do!"  re- 
torted Colonel  Todhunter.  "I  can  take  my  medi- 
cine just  as  gracefully  as  the  next  man  when  I  know 
it's  comin'  to  me,  but  I'll  be  jim-swizzled  if  it's  com- 
in'  to  me  yet.  The  cards  has  all  got  to  be  laid  down 
on  the  table  before  I'll  let  any  man  take  the  pot, 
suh!" 

Colonel  Strickland  shook  his  head,  smiling. 

The  next  moment  the  vanguard  of  the  approach- 
ing column  came  in  sight.  In  another  instant  the 
Nineveh  Bugle  and  Drum  Corps  and  the  Stephen 
K.  Yancey  Campaign  Club,  followed  by  a  crowd  of 
cheering  Yanceyites,  were  swinging  proudly  past 
the  Blade  office. 

"Hooray  for  Yancey !"  the  paraders  shouted. 

Colonel  Todhunter,  stiff  as  a  grenadier,  stood  at 
the  open  door.  His  jaws  were  set  hard  as  he  con- 
fronted the  triumphing  foe.  Suddenly  a  mocking 
voice  sounded. 

"We're  sorry  for  poor  old  Bill  Strickland!"  it 
cried.  "But  he  never  ought  to  ha'  bucked  up  against 
Steve  Yancey !" 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS   AT   THE   POLLS 

Colonel  Todhunter's  fighting  blood  leaped  in  his 
veins.  "Who  are  you  that's  so  sorry  for  Bill  Strick- 
land ?"  he  asked.  There  was  an  ill  omen  in  his  level 
tone. 

No  reply  came.  But  Colonel  Todhunter  identified 
the  speaker  by  following  the  glances  of  his  fellows 
in  the  line. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  is  it,  Jeff  Harris?"  he  said.  "You, 
that  didn't  know  at  first  whether  you  was  for 
Colonel  Strickland  or  old  Steve  Yancey.  Couldn't 
make  up  your  mind  till  you  saw  which  way  it  was 
most  profitable  for  you  to  jump.  Well,  Jeff,  your 
man  ain't  nominated  yet.  And,  in  the  meanwhile, 
I  wouldn't  like  nothin'  better,  you  white-livered 
skunk,  than  to  wipe  up  the  ground  with  you — " 

But  at  this  critical  moment  Colonel  Bill  Strick- 
land, laughing,  pulled  Colonel  Todhunter  back  into 
the  Blade  office — and  Jeff  Harris  passed  on  with 
the  Yancey  parade. 

"You  old  firebrand,  you!"  the  candidate  sput- 
tered, shaking  with  laughter.  "What  the  blue 
blazes  and  Sam  Hill  do  you  want  to  let  a  thing  like 
that  ruffle  you  up  for?  I  thought  you  had  more 
sense !" 

319 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

"I've  got  sense  enough,  Bill,"  said  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  "But  all  my  life  I've  been  ready  to  clench 
with  any  man  that  tried  to  mock  me  or  my  friends, 
thinkin'  we  was  down  and  out — and  I'll  just  be  shot 
full  o'  holes  if  I  ain't  still  ready !" 

Dick  Cantrill's  voice  interrupted.  "Here's  an- 
other bulletin !"  he  cried. 

Then  he  read :  "  'Returns  from  St.  Louis  just  be- 
ginning to  come  in.  It  is  now  claimed  that  Strick- 
land has  carried  that  city.  Yancey's  managers  are 
charging  Randolph  Carter,  the  newly  appointed 
chairman  of  the  Board  of  Election  Commissioners, 
with  unlawfully  using  his  authority  in  Strickland's 
behalf.  Last  night  Carter  removed  many  judges 
and  clerks  of  election,  claiming  to  have  proof  that 
they  had  been  appointed  to  insure  Yancey's  victory 
by  fraud,  and  appointed  others  in  their  places.  The 
Chief  of  Police  is  supporting  him  by  giving  the  new 
appointees  ample  police  protection  at  the  polls. 
Many  disturbances  at  polling  places  have  re- 
sulted.' " 

Colonel  Todhunter's  jubilant  hand  came  down 
heavily  on  Colonel  Strickland's  shoulder. 

"What  did  I  tell  you  about  Randolph  Carter  and 
320 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS    AT    THE    POLLS 

old  Chief  Stacey,  Bill?"  he  cried.     "Didn't  I  say 
that  I  made  old  Ran  feel  ashamed  of  himself?    And 
that   Chief   Stacey   was   white   clear  through   and 
would  use  his  policemen  in  favor  of  an  honest  vote 
if  he  got  half  a  chance?    Yes,  suh!    I  was  a-castin' 
my  bread  on  the  waters  when  I  had  that-there  talk 
with  them  in  St.  Louis — and  it's  comin'  back  to  us 
after  these  many  days,  you  mark  my  words!" 
There  was  a  joyous  cheer  from  his  hearers. 
But  Colonel  Todhunter  himself  held  up  a  warn- 
ing hand.     "Don't  be  too  previous,  boys!     Leave 
that  sort  of  foolishness  to  the  Yancey  crowd  that 
just  went  prancin'  by  here,  if  anything  of  that  sort's 
got  to  be  done.   Wait  for  the  riggers  before  you  do 
any  hollerin' !" 

But  Dick  Cantrill  gave  another  whoop,  notwith- 
standing. "Here's  another  bulletin!"  he  cried. 
"  'It  is  now  said  that  Strickland  has  a  heavy  plural- 
ity in  St.  Louis  as  a  result  of  the  honest  count  of 
votes  cast.  Yancey 's  managers  are  claiming 
fraud.' " 

And  then  the  "riggers"  began  to  roll  in.  The  re- 
turns from  St.  Louis  by  precincts  and  wards,  until 
now  delayed,  were  at  last  well  in  hand.  Dick  Can- 

321 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

trill  read  bulletin  after  bulletin  in  unbroken  suc- 
cession. Colonel  Strickland,  with  lips  compressed, 
tabulated  the  vote  by  wards.  Once  or  twice  he 
nodded  significantly  to  Colonel  Todhunter.  At  last 
there  came  a  break  in  the  steady  stream  of  returns. 
Lycurgus  Quivey  grasped  a  bulletin  from  the  hands 
of  the  Blade's  "devil"  as  the  latter  rushed  in  breath- 
less. He  handed  it  to  Cantrill. 

The  Blade's  editor  gave  one  swift  comprehensive 
glance  at  the  bulletin  and  excitedly  hurled  his  hat 
high  in  the  air  with  an  unrestrained  yell  of  exulta- 
tion. 

"  'It  is  now  conceded  by  Yancey's  managers,' ' 
he  read,  "  'that  Strickland  has  carried  St.  Louis  by 
at  least  11,000  plurality.  With  the  returns  now  in 
from  the  state,  this  gives  Strickland  a  total  plurality 
of  at  least  3,000,  with  several  Strickland  counties 
still  to  hear  from.  A  conservative  estimate  indi- 
cates that  Strickland  will  be  nominated  by  over 
5,000  plurality.' ' 

Colonel  Strickland  laid  down  his  pencil  and 
leaned  back  in  his  chair. 

"That's  reliable,"  he  said.  "We've  got  'em  beat, 
boys.  Anybody  that  feels  like  hooraying  for  Strick- 

322 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS    AT   THE    POLLS 

land  now  has  got  my  full  permission.  It's  perfectly 
safe." 

At  this  moment  the  little  "printer's  devil"  of  the 
Blade  delivered  a  personal  telegram  to  Colonel 
Strickland.  As  the  latter  read  it  an  expression  of 
the  deepest  relief  and  satisfaction  sprang  into  his 
face. 

"Thank  God !"  he  muttered.  "I  wanted  that  spe- 
cial piece  of  news  more  than  anything  else  in  all 
this  world.  Here,  Thurs,  just  you  read  this,  my 
friend !" 

Colonel  Todhunter  took  the  bit  of  paper  from 
Colonel  Strickland's  hand.  The  message  was  signed 
by  Governor  Leslie.  It  read : 

"Due  to  enthusiasm  caused  by  Tom's  acquittal 
and  the  public's  realization  of  cowardly  fight  made 
on  you  through  him,  a  popular  movement  to  raise 
fund  covering  total  deficit  in  Strickland  campaign 
fund  was  begun  to-day  and  successfully  completed 
at  our  headquarters  to-night.  Every  dollar  needed 
has  been  subscribed  and  paid.  Reliable  election  re- 
turns now  all  in  show  that  you  are  nominated  by 
nearly  6,000  plurality.  Congratulations." 

Colonel  Strickland  laughed  as  gleefully  as  a  boy 
3^3 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

when  Colonel  Todhunter  glanced  up  at  him  from 
the  reading  of  the  telegram. 

"That  settles  it,  Thurs !"  he  cried.  "And  by  the 
Lord  Harry,  I'm  gladder  to  know  you're  safe  on 
the  money  end  of  this  fight  than  to  know  I've  been 
nominated.  It's  given  me  more  than  one  sleepless 
night  of  worrying,  I  can  tell  you !" 

"It  hasn't  made  me  lose  a  wink  o'  sleep,"  replied 
Colonel  Todhunter  calmly.  "I  know  I  ain't  as  re- 
ligious a  man  as  I  ought  to  be,  Bill  Strickland,  but 
I  got  an  abidin'  faith  in  the  Good  Marster  up  above, 
all  the  same.  I  ain't  never  doubted  He'd  see  me 
safe  through  on  that-there  proposition.  He  knows 
the  tricks  o'  that  machine  gang  we're  fightin'  bet- 
ter'n  we  do,  and  He  ain't  a-goin'  to  let  'em  prevail 
over  us !" 

Saying  which,  Colonel  Todhunter  read  aloud  that 
sentence  of  the  telegram  authoritatively  announcing 
Colonel  Strickland's  nomination. 

Dick  Cantrill's  loyal  voice  led  the  mighty  cheer 
with  which  this  announcement  was  greeted.  Sim 
Birdsong's  was  second  only  to  his.  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter, gulping  just  once  after  having  read  the  proc- 
lamation of  victory,  did  not  join  in  the  cheering. 

324 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS    AT    THE    POLLS 

But,  when  Lycurgus  Quivey  came  to  him  with  out- 
stretched hands,  he  took  them  in  a  close  grip  of  his 
own,  his  dauntless  old  eyes  showing  just  a  hint  of 
dampness. 

"Colonel  Todhunter,"  spoke  Lycurgus,  "I'm  go- 
ing to  write  a  poem  describing  this  great  triumph 
after  seeming  defeat — it's  the  finest  thing  I  ever 
saw  in  all  my  life!" 

"Bully  for  you,  Lycurgus !"  replied  Colonel  Tod- 
hunter.  "And  I  bet  it'll  be  a  rip-snortin'  good  poem, 
too — that  one  you  wrote  at  the  openin'  of  the  cam- 
paign hit  the  target  plumb  center,  suh !" 

Then,  amidst  the  general  confusion,  the  colonel 
slipped  out  of  the  office  through  a  rear  door.  The 
next  moment,  as  if  in  response  to  a  signal  from  him, 
a  titantic  crash  of  music  was  heard.  Its  first  echoes 
had  hardly  died  away  when  the  Nineveh  brass  band, 
headed  by  Drum-Major  Samson  Meek,  wheeled 
around  the  corner  from  where  Colonel  Todhunter 
had  held  it  in  reserve. 

It  came  to  a  glorious  halt  in  front  of  the  Blade 
office,  where  Colonel  Strickland  stood,  his  head 
bared.  The  assembled  crowd  that  had  heard  the 
election  returns  fell  in  line  behind  the  band. 

325 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

There  was  a  moment  of  expectant  silence. 

Colonel  Todhunter  faced  the  candidate.  "Colonel 
Strickland,"  he  said  impressively,  "I  reckon  you 
and  me,  suh,  won't  take  no  part  in  this-here  demon- 
stration, which  is  a-goin'  to  rub  gall  and  wormwood 
into  the  raw  places  on  the  hides  o'  that-there  Yancey 
gang  that  just  went  by  here,  but  it's  up  to  you  to 
give  the  boys  a  send-off,  suh.  Yes,  suh — they'd 
like  to  hear  from  their  successful  candidate,  for  the 
Democratic  nomination  for  governor  of  Mizzoorah, 
suh!" 

Colonel  Bill  Strickland  was  one  of  the  most 
effective  off-hand  orators  in  all  Missouri.  He  was 
profoundly  moved  by  the  sudden  and  totally  unex- 
pected change  in  his  political  fortunes.  Colonel 
Todhunter's  friendly  voice,  shaking  just  a  little, 
touched  him  deeply  with  its  significance  of  love  and 
loyalty.  The  men  waiting  for  him  to  speak  were 
stanch  friends  to  the  last  one.  The  little  speech 
with  which  he  answered  Colonel  Todhunter's  appeal 
was  a  model  of  homely  eloquence  and  utter  sin- 
cerity. 

A  great  and  ringing  cheer  marked  its  close. 

"Now,  boys !"  said  Colonel  Todhunter. 
326 


MISSOURI    SPEAKS   AT   THE    POLLS 

Samson  Meek,  in  all  the  glory  of  his  full  regalia 
as  drum-major,  gave  his  baton  a  splendid  flourish 
in  the  air,  and  then  brought  it  down  in  front  of 
him  with  a  magnificent  sweep.  It  was  an  impressive 

signal. 

• 

And  as  it  was  given  the  Nineveh  Brass  Band 
smote  the  ear  of  night  with  a  clamorous  paeon  of 
victory,  the  bass  drum  and  the  snares  punctuating 
it  with  a  compelling  rhythm  of  irresistible  time- 
beat.  As  one  man  the  Strickland  procession  moved 
to  its  encounter  with  the  Yancey  parade.  First  be- 
hind the  band  itself  marched  Sim  Birdsong,  and 
second  only  to  Sim  was  Lycurgus  Quivey.  Down 
the  main  street  the  jubilant  procession  swung,  un- 
winding its  length  into  a  marching  column  with  ad- 
mirable military  precision. 

The  Honorable  William  J.  Strickland,  with 
Colonel  Todhunter  by  his  side,  watched  the  impos- 
ing line.  As  it  neared  a  corner  that  would  mean 
its  turning  and  disappearance  from  view,  the  pa- 
raders  sent  back  a  rousing  cheer. 

Colonel  Todhunter,  one  hand  resting  on  Colonel 
Bill  Strickland's  shoulder,  lifted  his  gray  soft  hat 
with  the  other  and  waved  it  above  his  head  in  re- 

327 


COLONEL   TODHUNTER   OF   MISSOURI 

sponse.  Then,  with  a  suspicious  gulping  of  a  sud- 
den lump  in  his  throat,  he  turned  to  his  companion. 
"Look  here,  Bill  Strickland !"  he  said,  almost  in- 
dignantly. "It's  high  time  we  was  gettin'  home  to 
our  folks  with  all  this  good  news !  And  let  me  tell 
you  one  thing,  my  friend,  and  that  ain't  two.  You 
and  me  have  got  to  get  a  heap  more  sleep'n  we've 
been  gettin'  here  lately  if  we  mean  to  dance  very 
spry  at  Mary's  and  Tom's  weddin',  suh !" 


THE  END 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


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